


Dreams Are Nice, But Nightmares Are Better

by Sunhealer24



Series: Hope is Strong; Fear is Stronger [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Altered Mental States, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brainwashing, Demon Deals, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Feelings, Feels, Forced Bonding, Gaslighting, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kinda, Language, Light Sadism, Mild Comfort, Multi, Non-Consensual Touching, One-Sided Relationship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pain, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sadistic Bill Cipher, Self-Harm, Sensory Deprivation, Stripping, Suicide Attempt, Tags May Change, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Thought Alteration, Underage Kissing, Verbal Abuse, dub-con, mental pain, unpreportional hurt to comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 16:42:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 27
Words: 24,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14406240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunhealer24/pseuds/Sunhealer24
Summary: Bruises as dark as the midnight sky under which you sat.Blood as wet as the dew on the grass.Everything hurt. Always.So why did you keep going back? He was a demon, both literally and figuratively.Because you loved him.And because he owned you.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"Get out." His voice was cold."But. . .""I said, GET OUT!" He repeats. "I don't give a damn!""I love you!"There's a moment of silence. "Well, that's just too damn bad, isn't it?"I hesitate, and he turns, the glint of the knife in his hand. "You just want me to hurt you, don't you?"





	1. Blood Is Red; Now You're Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Bruises as dark as the midnight sky under which you sat.
> 
> Blood as wet as the dew on the grass.
> 
>  
> 
> Everything hurt. Always.
> 
> So why did you keep going back? He was a demon, both literally and figuratively.
> 
> Because you loved him.
> 
>  
> 
> And because he owned you.
> 
> \------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> "Get out." His voice was cold.
> 
> "But. . ." 
> 
> "I said, GET OUT!" He repeats. "I don't give a damn!"
> 
> "I love you!" 
> 
> There's a moment of silence. "Well, that's just too damn bad, isn't it?"
> 
> I hesitate, and he turns, the glint of a knife in his hand. "You just want me to hurt you, don't you?"

I’m bleeding. That’s all there is to it. He hurt me again. I’m foolish to love him, I know. Nothing’s ever going to change. He’s just going to keep doing it, and I can’t even stop him.

“Y/n?” I hear someone call. It’s Mabel. But it might be too late. I might already be dead. 

My blood is soaking into the ground. I think it’s because I tried to run. I tried to avoid it. God. I’m such an idiot. At least I got away after. At least he won’t get to see me die.

He doesn’t love me. He never did. I’m just a pawn to him. A toy. I love him with all my heart and soul. He’ll never love me back. I’ve known this for forever. But I deluded myself into thinking that it was okay.

No. It was never okay. I’m just his slave, that’s all I ever meant to him. Nothing more. He just wanted to use me. Just wanted to break me. It wasn’t enough for him to own me. He wanted to possess me mind, body, and soul. 

If I die before Mabel finds me, at least I’ll die with the truth on my lips.

“Bill Cipher may own me, but he’ll never break me.” I whisper.

Because love is only so strong. It’s only as strong as the heart that holds it.

 

So when mine stops, he’ll no longer have a willing pawn. 

 

“Y/n!” Mabel exclaims. “Dipper!” She yells frantically.

Shh. . . He’ll hear you. . .

My eyes flutter, she’s floating in and out of my vision. “Dammit! Stay with us!” Mabel’s shaking me now.

I’m sorry. I can’t. I’ve failed you.

 

I can see yellow over her shoulder. “Look out!” I try to yell, but only a quiet sigh escapes the prison of my lips.

Darkness swirls over the world as I fall into the cold grip of sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I hope I don’t wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is my first fanfiction! Hope that it's okay!


	2. The Abyss Surrounding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't actually sure at first that I was going to write this fanfic, but the idea persisted until it started leaking out into my life. So, here we are. Hope you enjoy this!

I open my eyes. That shouldn’t be possible. I should be dead.

Where am I? The abyss surrounding me is as dark and bleak as a cold, starless night. 

“It’s the void Y/n.” A voice answers my thoughts. “A space between worlds. Technically, you are dead.”

My voice cracks as I speak. “So why am I here?” The blackness seems to swallow up my words. 

The disembodied voice sounds almost curious. “We want to know how you got here Y/n.” It hesitates. “We need to know what to do with you. If you die, we have to decide where you go. If you don’t, we need to decide what to do with you. You can’t stay in the void forever.”

My heart throbs, a dull, steady ache. “Send me back to Bill.” The response is automatic, programmed. 

“We’ll see.” The voice says smoothly. There’s a small sound, almost like the sizzling of a hot skillet, and I close my eyes, flinching. Metal heating is never a good sign, especially when I can’t see it.

“Relax.” I feel hands gently pushing down my hands before I realized they were shielding me instinctively. I slowly open my eyes. 

A candle floats in front of me, a small puddle of light pooling from it. “Take the candle.” The voice of the abyss encourages me. I stretch out my arm, my hand reaching the soft glow. Hesitant, I wrap my thin fingers around the tapered wax.

“There we go Y/n.” The voice soothes. “Now, what do you see?”

I lift the candle up, the darkness flowing like velvet around it. Small wisps of purple flame beckon to me, spinning slowly. They illuminate small fragments of the inky material around me. 

“Nothing.” I whisper. There’s nothing at all. 

 

“Look harder.” The voice suggests, kind but insistent. I do, my eyes sweeping across the endlessness. It’s small, but I catch it this time. A small mug, wispy steam coming from it. “What’s this?” I question. 

“Nothing is without a purpose.” The voice assures me, not answering my question. I’m beginning to think it’s like everything else in this place. Soft, dark, and unreal.

This has to be another one of Bill’s illusions. What did I do wrong this time? If I figure it out, usually he’ll let me leave. There's nothing i can do for now. I sit down, grabbing the mug. 

The darkness covers me like a blanket, but I never grow sleepy. “Y/n.” The voice says. “Please. Listen to us. Drink from the mug.” 

It’s always best to listen to the voice from the illusions, so I do as it tells me. The liquid tastes like nothing short of pure warmth. “Y/n. You’re safe here.” The voice promises. “But we need to figure out what’s to become of you. You need to tell us how you got here.”

 

I frown slightly. “You mean in the void?” I ask. “You already said that I died.” 

“No.” The voice sighs patiently. “Start from the beginning. The _very _beginning.”__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the second chapter, I promise that I'll try to make them better as time goes on. ;) Thank you for your comments and kudos, they keep me going!
> 
>  
> 
> \----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> Please leave a comment with either praise or constructive criticism! Let me know what you think! ;)


	3. The Very Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said that I would work on chapter length, and they aren't getting any longer right now. I'm sorry!
> 
> On the bright side, the main story part has _finally _started, and I think that it's going to be one Hell of a ride!_ <_

The candle extinguished; the dark no longer unfamiliar, but an old friend. “The very beginning?” I ask, closing my eyes. The memories wash over me like the cool swipe of my blood-stained satin.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rain streaked over the windows, warm and light. My favorite weather. It was barely spring, the frost having just reluctantly left the earth before the rains started coming. 

“You know Mabel,” I say quietly. “It’s days like this that I wonder.”

“Hm?” She asks, looking up from the new sweater she was knitting. “What is it?”

I laugh softly. “I wonder on days like this. Why things don’t jump off of the page, why dreams don’t simply pop up and come alive. On days like these, it seems as though they would.”

Dipper looks up too at this, from the book he is perpetually reading and rereading, his expression dark. “Y/n, there are some things you don’t want to jump off the pages.” He warns cryptically. I turn to him from the window, where I could see his reflection. “Really? Like what?” I ask, tilting my head.

He sighs, and says, “Forget it.” He says, starting to get up. “I’m going to go find Grunkle Ford.”

“Lighten up Dipper!” Mabel smiles, punching him lightly in the shoulder. “That was a couple of years ago. Ever since we turned 18, you worry too much!” 

He cracks a slight smile, for her. “Yeah, okay.” He says, leaving anyway, though in a better mood. I'm not surprised he'd lighten up for his sister, though she's one of the only ones. Younger than the twins by a matter of 5 months, I still remember their 18th birthday, 4 and a half months in the past. I, nearing my 18th myself, had little care for it, unlike Dipper and Mabel.

Mabel sighs, and goes back to working on her sweater. I turn back to the window. The rain falls like crystals, and makes me wish for the type of love you find in fairy tales. The kind where the prince doesn’t care what he has to go through to get to his love, and where she’ll wait for him, no matter what the burden, as Penelope did for Odysseus. 

I once again feel a pang of loneliness, as I have before. A deep longing for something more. Mabel and Dipper have each other, the fun loving sibling countering the duller one; and the time we spend apart, Mabel’s always with her girlfriend, Pacifica. During this time, Dipper hangs around Ford, and I. . . I’m alone. 

A deep sadness once again wells up within me, unnoticed by the only other person in the room, Mabel, as she hums happily. The rain now reminds me of my tears, and I suddenly can’t take it anymore. Standing from the window, I leave the room, slipping on my shoes.

Stepping outside soaks me without my coat, but I don’t care. The rain clings to my hair, matting the strands, and it seeps into my skin, and completely through it. I just need to go somewhere alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor little Y/n. I feel really bad for her. But, it'll get better. I promise. And at the same time much worse. . .
> 
> \----------------------------------------------------
> 
> Please leave a comment with either praise or constructive criticism! Let me know what you think! ;)


	4. I'd Trade My Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter _is _longer! We ease a bit more into the main plot of the story.__
> 
> __I'm actually pretty proud of this chapter! Let me know what you think!_ _

“It all happened so fast.” I explain, partly to the void and partly to myself. “I couldn’t prevent the emotions, I couldn’t control myself. I needed an out. So I ran into the rain.” I pause for a quiet moment. “I should have listened to Dipper. On a day when people could jump off the pages of books, I shouldn’t have been looking for something impossible. Because on a day like that, what I was looking for was exactly what I was bound to find.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Running outside into the rain, the slick mud underneath my feet, I was surprised I didn't fall. An act of God, sent straight from Heaven. Or a demon, straight from Hell.

I collapsed against the rough bark of a tree, far away from where I had come. It scratched at my face, and gripped my clothes in a tight hold. I sobbed, deep and wracking. “Why me?” I gasped. “Why don't I have anyone to love?” I petitioned the universe.

I whispered, tears filling my eyes, “I'd trade my very soul for someone to love. . .” 

A hand on my shoulder, and a voice straining to be gentle. “Are you alright?” 

I nod, not trusting myself to speak to the stranger. “Hey there. Look at me.” The stranger says, gently trying to turn me around to face him or her.

Wiping my face on my sleeve, I let myself be moved to face the stranger. He's a tall, handsome man, wearing a yellow suit. “Hey there.” He says, still with slightly forced gentleness. He lifts up my head with one of his black-gloved hands, the thin, agile fingers cupping my face. His other hand still rests on my arm, and I blush as I realize how close he's looking into my eyes. 

He tilts my head right and left. “Looks like you have some nasty scrapes there.” He remarks before letting go and stepping away gently.

“My name's Bill.” He says, his piercing golden eyes not moving from mine. 

I clear my throat slightly, still trying to wipe tears from my eyes now that he's not holding my face.

“Y/n.” I say, voice still slightly choked by tears.

“You'd really trade your soul to have someone to love?” He asks. Gold. His golden eyes bore into my own once again when I look up at him.

I feel compelled to tell him the truth. “Yes.” I whisper. “Everyone I know has someone to love. Family or someone else.” 

“You don't have family?” He asks, and I shake my head slowly, tangled strands brushing over my face.

“I moved here a few years ago. _Alone_.” I emphasize 'alone' slightly. I don't like talking about my family. Not after. . .

I put a stop to those thoughts. I don't like talking about my family.

“I'm sorry. I'm sure you'll find someone in the near future.” Bill says. “Maybe they'll keep your soul too.” He moves forward and gives me a firm handshake. 

I swear I see a flash of blue, but it's hard to tell in the rain.

He lets go, and turns around. “May you find your way back safely.” He says. His tone is definitely stiff now, but not because he’s uncomfortable with me. It’s mystifying how naturally his tone flows, yet how halting it is just below the surface.

He waves casually back to me. “See you around Y/n.” 

“Bye Bill.” I whisper, and I start to make my way back to the Mystery Shack. 

When I turn around one last time, trying to catch a last glimpse of the handsome man, he's gone.

 

Vanished without a trace, it was almost like he was never there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Y/n has officially (unknowingly) coiled herself into a mess that she's not going to be getting out of anytime soon. 
> 
> Yikes. I'd hate to be her right now.
> 
> Let me know if there's anything in the story that you particularly like or dislike, and let me know if there's anything that you would want to see! I may or may not include it ;)
> 
> \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> Please leave a comment with either praise or constructive criticism! Let me know what you think! ;)


	5. Did You Say Bill Cipher?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm happy with how this story is moving along! Thank y'all for reading it! I'm trying to post a chapter or so a day, but I might miss a couple days here and there, and once this story really gets rolling, the updates will probably be fewer and farther between, hope y'all understand!

I swallow, my voice thick. “I-I didn’t know who he was. I d-didn’t understand what I had done, or the enormity of the impact it would have on my life.” I try to calm the slight stutter in my voice. 

“Continue.” The void prompts gently. I close my eyes, even though darkness surrounds me. Taking a deep breath of the calm air, I let my voice carry through the space, continuing from where my memories left off.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wandered through the area for a while, until I finally remembered which way I had come from. The warm rain was starting to bring in a thick fog which curled lazily into the town, white and almost smoky. I only noticed it once out of the woods and almost to the shack. It billowed around my ankles, sprouting into curls and puffs, but with no real pattern. It was becoming denser by the minute, and before it blocked out all but a few feet ahead of me, I saw the shack. 

Running into its safety from the rain and accompanying fog, I heard Dipper and Mabel. “I hope that Y/n didn’t get lost out there!” Mabel said, her voice fraught with worry. Dipper spoke next, but his voice was full of anger and laced with venom. “This is just like him!” He seethed. “That damn yellow triangle!” “Language!” Mabel chided him gently. 

“Who are you talking about?” I asked, walking into the room while trying to squeeze out my hair. “Oh my God!” Mabel said, relief evident on both her face and in her voice. “We were afraid you’d gotten lost out there!”

“Yeah, it’s thick.” I said, remembering how I’d lost almost all visibility outside only moments ago. Dipper’s expression was still dark as he answered my question. “We were talking about a troublemaker. A dream demon we encountered a few years ago when we were thirteen.” About a year before I moved here then. 

“He tried to take over the world, starting with Gravity Falls.” Dipper said, but his chest swelled up with pride. “We all stopped him. Sent him back to his maker, whoever that was.” I consider for a minute what Dipper’s saying, his words sending my head reeling.

“His name’s Bill Cipher, little nasty triangular thing.” Mabel supplies helpfully, and my blood runs cold. The stranger in the woods said his name was Bill. Maybe I just heard her wrong.

“Did you say Bill Cipher?” I ask warily, and she wrinkles her nose slightly in distaste for the person. “Yeah.” She responds. “That’s him.”

 

“If you ever see him, stay away from him.” Dipper warns. “He’s bad news. Nothing good can ever come from meeting him.” There’s a pang in my chest, and it feels tight. “Excuse me.” I say, my voice strained. I run upstairs, leaving the twins mystified, but they don’t follow me. 

 

How could that kind stranger I met today be the same person the twins were describing? They described Bill as a monster, and if my Bill and theirs were truly one and the same, that just couldn’t be true. The Bill I had met today was a gentle soul, if a bit of an odd one. 

 

My mind snagged on the moment that our eyes locked, and I was caught in the memory of his golden eyes trapping mine in their embrace. Lost in the liquid gold, my mind’s struggles to free itself ceased, and I simply stared. There was suddenly a searing pain in my own eyes, and the memory left me. Closing them, I clutched at my eyes until the pain subsided. 

Looking into the mirror across the room, I was startled to find my pupils rimmed with a band of gold, the only seperation between them and my dark irises. 

“Incredible.” I breathed, coming closer to the mirror to examine it further. It glows softly, winking in the light like a ring of real gold.

The door opened, and I whirled around, on guard. “Y/n?” Mabel asks softly, facing me. “Are you okay?” 

My heart racing, I nod to her. “Are you sure?” She asks, sitting on the bed. “Come here. Tell me what's really wrong.”

 

I walk towards her as if in a trance. As I sit on the bed, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I blink. No gold ring. Did I imagine it? “Y/n?” Mabel questions, noticing I'm blanking out again.

“Hm?” I ask her back. “What's really wrong?” Mabel sighs. “I’m not Dipper. You can talk to me. I promise.”

 

I sigh. “It’s about earlier. When I got lost in the woods.” I admit. “I met a stranger that I’m not sure was real. He said his name was Bill.” Mabel hesitates for a minute, as if trying to figure out what to say. “Was he a yellow dorito?” She finally asks. If this weren’t so tense, I would start laughing at her description. “No.” I recount. “He was a tall man. Wasn’t a bad looker either.” 

Mabel giggles at my description. “”Then you shouldn’t have anything to worry about. The name must just be a coincidence.” I nod, relieved. “Must be.” I say. But I can still feel the tingling of the gold ring in my eye; I can still see the memory of him in my mind’s vision; I can still hear his voice in my ears. 

 

“My name’s Bill.” He had said. But was his name Bill _Cipher_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, our poor, confused little protagonists. She has _no_ idea what those gold bands around her pupils mean. Hope y'all are ready for the next few chapters, cause they're gonna be one Hell of a ride! (Both for us, and poor Y/n).
> 
>  
> 
> \--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> Y'all know how this works by now (probably). Please leave a comment with either praise or constructive criticism and let me know what you think! ;)


	6. Swing Low, Sweet Chariot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this took longer, but I finally got it here! I also expect the next chapter to take a bit longer, so I'm sorry for that. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
>  
> 
> (You actually don't need a microscope to see the plot)

The blackness of the void reminds me of night. With my eyes closed, I can almost imagine the moon glowing brightly; the stars shining with the light of the heavens. I can almost feel the cool breeze kissing my skin, like those cold lips. . . 

My eyes shoot open, and the warm velvet of the void is a comfort, the opposite of cool, crisp night; stealing the ghosting memory of his kisses against my skin. I shudder violently at the memory, glad to be snapped suddenly out of my fantasy. “Y/n?” The voice of the void asks me. “Are you alright?”

 

No. I’m not. “Yes.” I lie. “I know you’re lying.” The voice confronts me. I stay silent for a moment. “I’ll be fine.” I finally say. Probably. I wipe at my suddenly heavy eyes, and my fingertips come away wet. I’m crying. At this point, I no longer know if it’s from the loss of my love, or the pain I’ve suffered. I have no choice but to continue. I've come too far now to back down.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Later, when I finally leave the Mystery Shack, the fog has almost completely lifted, the rain virtually nonexistent. It’s been a long day, definitely tiring. The misty remains of the sky’s tears is enough to soothe my tired eyes; enough to make me lift my face to greet the dewy droplets. 

Walking through the remains of the storm, I feel at peace. I unlock my door, and close it behind me once I’m in my house. In my bedroom, I set my phone on the dresser, and strip. The clothes are dry now, though they still carry the slight scent of the wet earth. I walk into the bathroom, raking my fingers through my tangled hair, and turn to the shower. 

Stepping in, I let the warm water flow over me, the bubbles of the shampoo in my hair, the caress of the soap on my skin. When it hits my face, I feel the still unfamiliar, though not unpleasant, tingling sensation in my eyes again. I sigh as I step out, wrapping myself in a towel and shaking out my hair. I at myself in the mirror, once again, gold-ringed eyes staring back at me. 

I swear, I see a flash of yellow behind me in the mirror, and I feel hands ghost over my bare shoulders. Clutching my towel tight to my chest, I tear my eyes away from the ones in the mirror, and frantically examine the rest of the area. Whirling around to find something the mirror claims isn’t there, I still find nothing. The feathery touches are gone, and I can only assume the presence is too. 

 

Perhaps it was just my imagination. It’s been too long of a day, and I just need to go to bed. That must be it. I walk into my room, and let the towel drop, slipping into pajamas. I climb in bed, blocking out all thoughts, and I’m out like a light. But that never means that my mind stops.

Dreams overtake my subconsciousness, and I find myself in an armchair, a half full champagne glass hanging loosely in between my fingers. I laugh, the bubbly laugh that comes from too much champagne, as if my presence here is funny. 

Taking a look around the room, it’s decked in gold with accents of black and red. It’s very plushy, high-end. Unusual of the simplistic Gravity Falls. Unless, of course, we’re talking about the Northwest Mansion. But it doesn’t quite share this color scheme. In fact, there’s not a room in it with any of these exact colors.

It feels as though I’m waiting for someone, in this strange dream my head has concocted, so I sip my champagne slowly and wait. If I’m waiting for someone, this dream won’t end until I find that person. 

The gold bracelets on my wrist clatter lightly as I raise the glass to my mouth. I sit there for what feels like an hour; the person never shows, the glass never empties. 

 

The gold that adorned both myself and the room winking in the soft light, I finally set down the champagne glass, its bubbles still fizzing merrily. I stand, stretching my sore muscles, and the room starts to spin abruptly. I stagger back, but the chair seems to have disappeared and I fall hard to the floor. With an uneasy sense of vertigo, I force myself back to my feet. I have a sense that it's not safe to be sitting here on the floor, vulnerable.

 

“Well, what do we have here?” A voice asks, and a yellow triangle floats in front of me. “Y/n. How nice of you to drop by.” He greets. I search my memory, but somehow, I don't remember meeting any talking, floating, geometric entities. I'm pretty sure that's something I would remember. Then I remember my conversation with Mabel and Dipper. 

“You're Bill Cipher.” I realize. “There we go!” he exclaims. His one eye slowly blinks through a few different images that I don’t quite recognize. He says nothing, circling me. 

I try to follow his movements, but soon give up and opt to stare down at my hands instead. The fingers are as long and thin as mine truly are, but that's where the similarities end. These hands aren't covered in the marks of both work and play. Gone are the splinters, scrapes, bruises, and cuts. Not even the hint of a callous shows. 

These hands are a stranger's, soft and unblemished. There are nails on these hands, buffed and filed. They shine of molten gold. 

“What do you want?” I ask, growing uncomfortable with the silence. “In the moment or in general?” He asks back. I consider for a moment. “In general.” I decide. 

“To liberate this world!” Bill laughs as if he finds the prospect funny. “But most of the world is free.” I say, confused. “Oh Y/n.” the triangle says. “You have yet to learn what is to go on. All of you meatsacks are bound by your petty ‘rules’. I’ve watched this go on for many summers now since my failure before.” He pauses, turning to me. “I believe I can liberate this world through the help of a willing pawn.” 

There’s a flash of bright light, spiraling yellow and black, and when I drop my hand from shielding my eyes, it’s Bill from the woods standing in front of me. “No!” I scream, it echoes off of the walls. “You can’t be him!”

 

“What?” Bill smirks. “I can’t be the man you inadvertently fell in love with?” He paces around me, circling me again like a hungry shark. “You told me you would give your soul to love someone. So now you do, and now I _own_ you.”

I crumple to my knees, holding my head. This can’t be true. He has to be lying. Dimly, I’m aware of Bill picking me up. “Hush Y/n.” He says softly. “You won’t remember any of this in the morning.” 

My eyes heavy, I struggle to stay awake. I don’t want to forget. “Shh.” Bill soothes, his lilting voice now picking up the strands of a melody. 

 

“If you get to Heaven before I do, coming forth to carry me home, Then tell all my friends that a’ coming too, coming forth to carry me home. Swing low, sweet chariot, coming forth to carry me home. . “ 

 

I fight it, but he soon sways me back to sleep and soon, to reality.

 

 

_“Swing low, sweet chariot. . . coming forth to carry me home. . .”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bill's intentions are somewhat revealed, and Y/n is now both aware and oblivious to them. This should be fun.
> 
> \----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> If you enjoyed the chapter, please comment with either constructive criticism or any praise you think this work deserves! Let me know what you think! And thanks for reading! ;)


	7. Coming Forth To Carry Me Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know this is a bit late, I'm sorry. I said I would post this either Thursday or Friday, but I got caught up with some things, and ideas just weren't flowing. _But_ I **finally** got this finished. Hope you enjoy!

I laugh, short and derisive, letting my tears spill into the waiting velvet. The blackness of this abyss catches all my tears as soon as they fall. 

 

“If only I'd known.” I say. But my heart throbs. If only I didn't miss him so much, even now. I try to choke back another sob futility. I’m in too deep. I’ve always been in too deep, ever since Bill helped me. But the danger was something I could never escape, until it led to my death. 

 

Now my soul is stuck here in an endless limbo, to be ascended or damned to Hell. No choice but to continue. Time to head back into the fray.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up in the morning, dimly aware of having a dream. I was still shaking, but I remembered nothing of it. Shrugging, I brushed it off and got up slowly. I stretched, and a flash of yellow caught my attention. A gold ribbon, braided into my hair. 

I don't remember putting it in, but it looked cute, so I left it alone. It didn't really look as if it would come out without a fight anyway. 

I went downstairs for breakfast, but strangely had no appetite. My head hurt, as if I had drunk too much champagne, and I decided to just grab a cup of water and go.

 

It was barely misting outside, again, and it was pleasant, if only a bit chilly. The weather made me smile as I sipped my water on the way to the Mystery Shack. The cool, blue rain was my favorite weather.

I frowned as a thought started tugging at the edges of my mind. The golden sun with its yellow rays and bright glow was better than the blue and silver misty rain would ever be. But I loved the rain, sometimes even hating the harsh light of the sun.

 

Trying to shake off the unsettling thought that didn't seem to be my own, I turned my face up to the quiet, misty sky. Blue and silver were always my favorite colors. 

Walking a bit farther, the Mystery Shack in sight, I heard a voice in my head. _“Yellow and gold are your favorite colors.”_ I tilted my head. But they weren't. Blue and silver were my favorite colors. The voice again. _“Yellow and gold are your favorite colors.”_ They weren’t!

 

I sank to the ground, clutching my skull, fighting against the foreign invader in my brain, the one scrambling my thoughts. An aching cry, a plea, was torn from my lips. _“Please!”_  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I shudder now, tears falling freely still. How long have I been here, forced to recount this tale. “Please.” I mutter. “A cry I will remember as long as I live. The times I’ve repeated it. How I’ve memorized exactly when to say it and why so he would just stop. . .” 

I’m tired, as tired and drained as if I was alive. “Don’t make me continue.” I say, defeated. “I can’t go on.” But there’s that gentle voice. “But you must.” 

 

And I know the void is right.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The wind whispered in my ear, taking the edge of the pain. The whispering dulled in my head, and I was able to stand. Wiping the shining dew from my lashes, I righted myself. I must go on. I cannot let myself go mad as I did when my parents were. . . 

 

No. I won’t think about that. I **can’t** think about it. I must go on. Bracing myself, I started towards the Mystery Shack once more, not letting my mind stray from the sole thought of getting there. 

I collapsed into the building, and inadvertently, into Dipper’s arms. “Y/n?” He questioned. “Are you okay?”

 

Shaking like a leaf, I wanted nothing more in life than to tell him the truth. To tell him, no, I wasn’t alright. To have him comfort me. “Yes. I’m fine.”

He looked doubtful, but accepted my explanation. “You look tired. Did you get much sleep last night?” Dipper asked, changing the subject. Trying to remember, I said, “I. . . think?” The statement ended in a question, oddly. I couldn’t remember sleeping, though I know I did.

 

His eyes searched mine, questions blazing in them, but I turned away. He would not, could not, drag an answer from me. Today, or ever. Especially not when I didn’t know the answer myself.

“Y/n?” Dipper questioned again. “ Yeah?” I responded, not looking at him.

 

“Look at me.” He said, gently tilting my chin up so that his eyes, did in fact, meet my own. “I know I’ve been harsh and distant lately. I know Mabel’s been spending a lot of time with Pacifica. But we still care about you. That’s not going to change, no matter what you or anybody else do.” 

I nodded through my tears. “O-okay Dipper.” I whispered, barely trusting myself to talk. “Come on.” He said. “I think Mabel left some of her ‘Mabel Juice’ in the kitchen.” He muttered, as a side note, “I can’t believe she still makes that stuff.” Speaking to me again, he asked, “Do you want some? Her ridiculous creation, while practically inedible, might make you feel better.”

He watched me intently, concerned, until I nodded and he smiled. “I’ll go get you some then.” I offered a hesitant smile back right before he left.

 

Standing in silence for a minute, I looked around. Same old room. Same old people here. Change was coming, but did I really want it?

 

My chain of thoughts was disrupted. “Hey there kid.” A familiar, handsome man said. My attention snapped to him. “Bill.” I greeted, managing the tiniest of smiles.

“Hey there Y/n, why you so down?” Bill asked me. I shrugged, not sure I should share my concerns with him. He had no aura around him. No barrier of energy, no feeling of a tangible soul vibe.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
I took another breath. “He had no aura. I don’t remember if that scared me, only that it should have.” I close my eyes, remembering his golden making the other colors blur and dull, pulling myself back into the memory.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He stared at me for a moment, making me feel slightly uncomfortable. Then, a strange, lilting melody deftly started weaving its way through the air.

 

It was peaceful, and I felt my eyes getting heavy. I looked at Bill, he unaffected by it. Dimly, as if muffled, I heard a glass break and cursing from the kitchen. I heard my name, “Y/n!” A scream, from Dipper.

 

But I looked to Bill. “Shh. . .” He hushed. “Go to sleep.” He started singing to the strange melody, sweet and soothing, imbued with sleep straight from Hypnos himself.

 

_“Swing low, sweet chariot, coming forth to carry me home; Swing low, sweet chariot, Coming forth to carry me home. . .”_

I felt Bill’s strong arms lift me up as my eyes drifted shut. “Shh Y/n. I’m coming forth to carry you home.”

 

I swear, as sleep overtook me, I heard it one last time from his sweet, lilting voice. 

 

_“Coming forth to carry me home. . .”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Plot advancement. Yeah, I know I'm a bit of a jerk to my characters.
> 
> Y/n, I'm sorry; Bill, you're a jerk; Dipper/Mabel. . . I don't even know what to say. I guess it's that you guys should probably keep a close eye on Bill, he may enter your future presently.
> 
>  
> 
> The next chapter (whenever I actually write it), will start into a couple of those darker tags. Sorry Y/n, Not sorry Bill.
> 
> \---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> Please leave a comment! I love to hear from y'all, whether it's constructive criticism or praise. I would also love to hear theories about how this is going to come along. Your comments make my day brighter, and keep me going. I would also love to respond to questions about the story, and the characters (of course) might have some interesting information to share if you ask them! ;)


	8. Pain's First Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very badly written (I think), but it sets up the next part of the plot. I'm sorry for what happens to Y/n; I'm not sorry for what's impeding into Bill's future because of this. Either way, I hope you enjoy, and I'm sorry that this isn't better for y'all.

I couldn’t stop the tears, the sobs wracking my body as I trembled under the weight of all the pain. Yet, the memories kept confronting me, crashing over me like tidal waves on the shore. They didn’t stop, and like the waves, they would soon drown me.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Look at me.” 

 

I can’t tell if this a dream or reality, only that I’m lying on a floor and someone’s talking to me. The floor is hard, but at least clean. “Look at me.” The voice demands again. “I’ll only ask so many times.”

The tone implies that I shouldn’t test this person’s patience or push at limits. I force my eyes to open. Bill crouches in front of me, his hand on my head. I groan slightly, a headache forming. 

 

“Dream or reality?” I manage to ask him. Bill’s eyes darken into a murkier gold, not the one of the precious metal that I saw that day in the woods. He doesn’t answer, but slams his hand down, hard, bringing my head with it.

 

I cry out as he harshly brings my face to the hard surface, and I taste blood. His touch leaves me, and it feels almost more painful than his violence. Bill stands, and I remain, facing downwards on the floor. My hair covers my face, which is soaked with tears and blood. I think he broke my nose and I definitely bit my tongue deeply. 

A second later, I feel him grip my legs roughly and pull them into his lap. A cold edge of something metal grazes my skin, and I freeze. “Look at me.” Bill demands a third time, and I listen, struggling to sit up, wiping the blood from my face. 

His smile is like nothing I’ve seen before. “I have hold of both your feet.” His iron grip isn’t letting go, and the steel edge of the blade glints in his hand. “Should both of your legs I cleave? Because you wouldn’t need them.” He asks me, and my stomach drops. The metal digs into my ankles, starting to split the skin as he pulls me closer. It’s too sharp, much too sharp. Sharp enough to slice through skin, muscle and bone. 

“In my hand,” His voice is lilting, gentle and almost playful. “I hold a silver knife,” He takes the knife, if it truly is silver, from the skin of my ankles, and jerks me so fast that before I know what’s happening, my back is solidly pressed against his chest. “I’ll remove your wings, so you cannot fly.” His breath is hot against my neck, and his voice merely a whisper in my ear. 

The knife digs into the skin of my back and I scream in the sheer agony and pureness of the pain, arching it as he drags it downwards, slowly and painfully, leaving a bloody track all the way from my shoulder to my waist. My breaths come out ragged for a second as the cold blade, slick with my blood is gone for a mere moment. 

 

I feel as though I cannot live as he does in a second time, barely touching my other shoulder blade. The agony will kill me long before my blood, draining out to the floor, will. Bill pulls me back against him more, and I can’t help but cling to him as his shirt soaks the blood from my back, his body warmth, the only shred of comfort I have at the moment. “I will monopolize every single thing you do,” He whispers into my ear again, almost singing. “Contain you for myself inside of a dark room. . .”

 

I cry softly, and his arms curl around me tighter, the knife on the floor in front of me. It’s what’s red with my blood, not Bill’s hands. The knife is at fault. The knife hurt me and Bill is comforting me. It’s the knife that caused this searing agony.

 

Nothing is to blame Bill for. It’s the silver blade.

 

“Shh. . .” Bill says, calming my thoughts. I close my eyes, unable to stare at the knife that caused my pain any longer. “It’s okay Y/n. It’ll be fine.” I can hear him, I can feel him. Nothing is his fault. I choke back another sob.

“Can you understand me?” Bill asks slowly, and I nod yes. “You need to wake up Y/n.” I whimper, clutching his arms. He can’t leave me with this pain all alone.

“Y/n.” Bill says, his voice stern but soft. “Wake up. Now.” 

 

I open my eyes, and I’m lying on a bed, the pain gone. Dream then. But I can remember the gouges perfectly. Bill’s sitting next to me, as in the dream. And as in the dream, his eyes are murky when he looks at me. “That was your first taste of pain.” He says, and I nod mechanically. He stares me in the eyes, and I’m trapped by the molten gold. “It was all the knife’s fault. The knife hurt you. Do you understand?” Bill asks me, his tone concise. 

As if in a trance, I nod slowly. “Remember Y/n. You love me.” I nod again, unable to do anything else. “Do you understand?” He asks. My voice flat, I reply with no hesitation. “The knife was at fault. The knife hurt me. The knife caused me pain, nothing else. I love you.” 

 

Bill takes a knife again.  
It’s the knife’s fault.

 

He brings it to my wrist.

I love him.

 

It cuts across. Once. Twice. Three times. 

Bill’s not at fault.

 

“Y/n.” Bill says quietly, standing me up and pressing the knife into my hand. He gently starts to lead me somewhere. The room is white and I stand by a sink. “I came into the bathroom because I couldn’t find you. I found you cutting your wrist. Do you really hate me so much you would rather die?”

Tears spring to my eyes as I look at the knife and cuts, as if seeing them for the first time. “N-no! Bill! I love you!” He bites his lip, as if choking back his own sobs. “Then why were you cutting Y/n? If not to die?” I throw down the knife and collapse sobbing against him. “I-I’m so sorry! I’m so s-sorry. . .” I cry into his shirt, the blood soaking the material.

 

I’m a failure. I can’t do anything right. “I’m worthless.” I cry into his shirt. “No. You’re not worthless.” Bill assures me, patting the back of my head. “It’s those Pines twins. They try to convince you I’m evil. So you cut your  
wrist open. You hurt yourself, you let them convince you I’m the bad one.”

 

I cry ever harder. “Please Y/n.” His eyes seem full of pain. “Please stay away from them.” I nod, not trusting myself to say anything as he gently guides me somewhere else.  


It's not Bill's fault. Never Bill's fault.

It's mine.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’m quiet for a minute. “It took me awhile, a few days at least, to figure out he was brainwashing me. A few days to realize that he was the one hurting me, that it wasn’t simply me hurting myself or faceless phantoms cutting away at my skin. It was Bill. By the time I realized what was happening, he had free reign over my mind and body. He already had my soul. So it only got worse. I could say that that was my first taste of pain.” I shift uncomfortably, trying to keep the tears from flooding over again. 

 

“But it’d be more accurate to say that it was pain’s first taste of me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you recognize the song, there are some lyrics from the English dub of the song "The Tragedy of Chateau Cepage" in this chapter. It's a very interesting song, and I'd recommend watching it personally. 
> 
> For people who are confused: Bill hurt Y/n in a dream and brainwashed her partly during and when she woke up. He cut her wrists and convinced her that she did it so Y/n would start to hate herself and Dipper/Mabel. The chapter ends with a brief explanation of this in the void and a short transition into the next chapter (whenever it comes out). 
> 
>  
> 
> Again, I'm sorry that this couldn't be better.  
> \--------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> Please drop a comment down below and give me some feedback, theories, questions, and/ or criticism/support! :)


	9. There Is Comfort In Darkness, There Is Pain In Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this chapter is all about mental manipulation and truth versus lies. I swear it will get interesting once I can actually find motivation to write.

Choking back a sob, I ask, “Do you want me to continue?” I’m something broken. I’m a damaged toy, not worth keeping. But I’m his broken toy. I have to go back to him. 

“Shh. . .” The voice says. I feel a presence next to me. “It’s okay. You’re not his anymore.” I scream at the voice till my throat is raw. “How can you say that?! I love him! You don’t understand! You’ll never understand!” My throat feels like it’s bleeding, but this sensation is not unfamiliar to me. 

I suddenly feel a distinctly human form wrap me in a comforting hug. Not the harsh ones or loving ones I’ve so rarely received, but a friendly hug that forces my mind to remember better days with Dipper and Mabel. I sob into the person’s chest. “Shh.” He calms me. “It’s okay. It’s alright. There’s going to be a brighter future for you.” His shirt is getting soaked with my tears and the blood on the silk clothes I wear is still slick.

But he doesn’t pull away. Despite everything, he lets me bury my head in the fabric of his shirt and he pulls me closer. “Oh child, what tragedies you have endured.” He whispers softly. “And I’m sorry that we’re far from done. Tell me the road you’ve walked.”  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Oh my love, how much do I hate thee?” I whispered, sitting with my head in my bleeding hands. The knife sitting there on the floor. I had never touched it. And it sure as hell didn’t move on its own. 

 

I was never wrong. It _was_ him. It was always him. Pain brought back memories, the sharp nails digging into my wrists, the sharper knife digging its way through my skin. Pain, though hateful, brought a clear mind. It cleared the muddy, foggy, water of my thoughts to reveal a mirror, smooth and shiny. From this mirror, I found my reflection. And I found the puppet strings hanging from me, waiting to be pulled taught by a certain demon.   
The first time, I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it. But as time went on, and my mind cleared more and more, I found that while people lie, their reflection will always tell the truth. Facts can be changed, senses can be slighted, and memories can be altered. But when you see the reflection of their soul, it will never lie to you. 

And when I looked inside that mirror and saw the puppet strings being pulled, when I saw the soul of the person behind me, I knew the truth.

 

I hate him. 

 

I love him. 

 

And I can’t stop. 

 

Pulled out of my thoughts by a noise, I looked up. There he was.

My love. My tormentor. My savior. My imprisoner. 

“Y/n.” He said. “Look at me. Meet my eyes.” I flinched as I looked up into the soft rings of golden metal. His smile was something I never wanted to see again. I recoiled as he offered me his hand. He frowned. “Y/n. Please.” He said, and I couldn’t tell if his politeness was forced. I didn’t know if he was truly being kind. 

I took his hand, and he pulled me up to my feet. “Bill. . .” I trailed off as my body collided into his and I felt the soft swish of his clothes. So familiar. So right, but so wrong. “Shh.” Bill said. “Don’t say anything. There are no words needed.” He seemed gentle today. “Love. . .” I started again, and he pushed one finger against my lips in a gesture of polite quietness. I nodded, letting him lead me. 

 

I remember an old nursery rhyme that my parents always used to tell me. Rather, I let it bleed back into my memory. 

 

_There is comfort in darkness, there is pain in light;_  
Let nothing lead you from the embrace of the night.   
Glance at the sun, but never for long;  
The blinding light, be your downfall.  
The moon’s silver glow, the night’s gentle calm;  
Let it keep you your whole life long.  
Never listen to the whispers of day;  
Lest they carry you, to dangers, away. 

 

I remember their warnings, their slightly foreboding voices underneath the silver and blue sky. The intoned believes never will vanish.

 

Bill is light of the worst kind, and I’m letting him lead me astray. Because I’m forced to love the light I was taught to hate. The light that, by all rights, I should hate. Never trust the light, only the darkness.

For what you can’t see can’t hurt you. In the light, the friend in darkness is shown as a demon. A monster. 

And I need the monster with all my soul.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Y/n. . .” The voice trails off. There’s nothing to say. “D-” My voice cracks on the words. “Don’t. The worst is still far to come.” I hiccup slightly. “This is just the beginning.”

 

Comfort in darkness and pain in light indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see. Y/n now has comfort to match the voice. But she ominously warns that the story is far from its worst point, before it all rolls downhill. That fun journey will begin soon. 
> 
> Meanwhile, y'all can ask questions for me or the characters, leave helpful comments, and just generally brighten my day! See y'all in the comments!


	10. Golden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I made an ever increasing list of tags and I'm treating it like a checklist. Anyway, enjoy your angst and trauma of the day!

“I was so weak, so foolish to believe in his lies. He never had any good intents.” I whisper into the person’s chest. His arms tighten around me. “Go on.” I take a deep breath. “Please Lord.” I whisper. “Mom, Dad, please. Help and forgive me.”  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I collapse over the sink, tears spilling from my eyes and mixing with the red already inside of the basin. The room smells like copper, and I almost hope that the scent would suffocate me. 

When I was younger, I used to believe in happy endings. I used to believe in those golden moments. I used to believe that my prince would come one day and sweep me off my feet. Not anymore. Not after this. Never after this. I never will again.

I can feel something bad in the very core of myself. Inside my soul, there is a blackness shining brightly. A hollow, corrupted part. I hate it. I don’t know where my soul lies, but if I did, I would cut it out of my body. 

 

I’m a prisoner here as much as a guest. I haven’t slept since I found myself here, I haven’t eaten. I can’t tell the passing of time. I haven’t felt anything but pain and emptiness. Self hatred. Love and hatred towards Bill. I wanted love, but I never asked for this. I never asked for this sick simulation of it. 

 

“Y/n!” I hear Bill’s voice from the fog that surrounds me, but I can’t see him. I don’t want to. I drop the knife and it resounds, a dull clattering on the floor. I start to fall, and I feel that I can see the world through these walls. I hope I die now. I don’t want to stay.

Strong arms catch me, nails dig harshly into my shoulders. No. No! Don’t you _dare_ save me! “Y/n.” His voice is cold. “You aren’t leaving. Not today, not ever.” My vision clears as Bill lets me go and I hit the tile hard. I can see the bloody knife, and I can feel the chill of the floor. Looking up, Bill’s expression is harsh and I flinch. I know he’s angry. 

But I’m angry too. 

 

“If you ever loved me, you wouldn’t try to pull that shit!” Bill screams at me, and I deflate. But his proclamation at the same time makes me more angry, bursting through the shell of self hatred. It will still be there later, but I’m free in the moment. 

“No!” I scream at him. “You can’t keep me here! You can’t deny me rights!” He stares at me for a moment, his face twisting into the oddest expression. After an eternity of silence, he smiles. Not a nice smile, or a happy smile, but a twisted expression. “So. You learned how to fight.” I tilt my chin up in defiance. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me beaten down again.

He grabs my arm, his tight grip and nails bruising it surely. I cry out in surprise. “Y/n, dear. There are so many things you need to learn. Not in the least that it’s never a good idea to challenge me. And you’re not allowed to leave this earth unless it’s by my own hand. Trust me. I’ll make sure you can’t do that again. I’ll make sure that I can always find you.” 

His monologues never cease to frighten me, and this is no exception. I have no idea what he has planned. “Don’t worry Y/n. This would have eventually happened. I would say this would only hurt a little, but that would be a lie.” He pulls me harshly along with him, and forces me down onto a bed, pinning my arms down. 

He looks almost feral, but as always, completely in control. It scares me, not knowing what he's going to do, not knowing what's going to happen. My heart pounds in my chest, and I think it will burst out any minute. Bill smiles down at me, his hair brushing lightly over his face. “Too bad you're only 17.” He whispers. “You look so appealing, so helpless.” 

 

I writhe in his grip, trying to get free, but his grip grows ever tighter. He lowers his face to mine, and I turn, trying to deny him in anyway I can. 

But his mouth somehow finds mine, and he kisses me. It’s not like I thought my first kiss would be. It’s harsh and demanding anything and everything from me. Despite myself, I feel a spark of passion bloom in my chest as the kiss deepens. 

 

Tears prickle at my eyes flooding over when he finally pulls away. I feel disgusted with myself for wanting him, even with this forced love. I’m isolated here, and I realize that Bill can do anything that he wants to me. There’s no one except the two of us here, and I can do nothing to stop him. 

Bill laughs darkly. “Don’t worry my dear. Though you do taste delicious, your birthday is in three days. I can contain myself that long.” 

I’m shocked and horrified at his words. I’m almost eighteen. I have three days until I’m no longer innocent. 

 

“But until then. . .” He looks at me with a barely concealed hunger. “I have to make sure that you can never run away from me. That you can never leave me.” I shudder violently underneath him, and he smirks at me, pulling away just a bit.

I feel suddenly cold as an object floats in the air above my chest. It’s a small heart, pulsing frantically. Another one emerges from Bill’s chest, and a shiver of pain runs through me as the small heart struggles to get away. His is gold as mine is silver. “That’s your soul, and mine.” Bill says calmly. “In a minute, they’ll bond. And I’ll always be able to know where you are.” 

“No! Don’t do this!” I scream at him, thrashing wildly and trying to pull my soul back. I admittedly don’t know much about this, but I do know that a soul is supposed to be a spiritual culmination of your entire being. “Hold still goddammit!” Bill yells at me, his nails cutting painfully into my wrists. 

 

The souls come closer, and closer until the light is almost blinding as they start to take up one space. There’s a burst of pain and then the two souls seperate. Mine recoils as if struck, sinking into my chest immediately. Bill’s hangs for a minute, a small silver heart in the center of all that gold. Then, it too, bounces back into his chest. My soul pulls out at Bill’s command, and it’s no longer pure silver. A gold band surrounds it, trapping it, and suffocating it. 

 

I start to cry again. I didn’t want to be bonded to Bill in any way, especially not with my entire being. “Shh. . .” Bill shushes me gently. “Don’t cry unless I make you. It’s just tears wasted.” 

He pulls off of me, releasing my wrists and stands. Without a word, he walks away, leaving me alone and confused.

 

I shake uncontrollably, trying to steady myself. God please help me.

 

I always wanted to be golden. But not like this.

Never like this. 

I used to believe in true love. I used to believe in soulmates. But I won’t make that mistake again. There is no predestination. There is no such love so strong that it will always find you.

There is only what you make, and what you are made to be.   
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Y/n, what happened to your family?” The voice asks, and I shift uncomfortably against his body. “I don’t feel comfortable answering that right now.” I reply.

“Do you still. . .” The voice starts again. “Are you still bonded to Bill?” 

I nod, my face still against the material of his shirt. 

 

“Oh stars.” He whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. Failed suicide attempts, forced soul bonding, and talk of the (relatively bleak) future in this chapter. *cough cough* Bill's planning something awful, see tags *cough cough* 
> 
> Bill, I hope you die. 
> 
> Y/n, I hope you get a hug.
> 
> Voice of the void, I hope you can actually help Y/n.  
> \------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> Don't forget to comment! Ask questions, give feedback, show some love or criticism, and generally just brighten my day! Give me some fuel to keep writing! ;)


	11. Love Is A. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything in this world has a price, whether Y/n realizes what it is or not.

I pull out my soul, and it comes easily. The first time I did this, I almost killed myself. Not that that wasn’t my intent to begin with. The gold band still nessles around the silver of my soul, trapping it. Love is something I always wanted. Love is something I never should have given freely. Love is something I’ve never received.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Love is something I’ve never understood. The motive, the drive. How Mabel and Pacifica love each other. How family loves each other. I’ve pushed all memories of my family so far from my mind, so far into the corners, that I’ve all but obliterated them. 

I push myself up off the bed. I’m not ready to think about that yet. Perhaps not ever. But I can’t right now at least. Walking over, I open the door to the room, ready to leave this room for one of the few times since I’ve entered this place. 

My stomach reminds me, rather angrily, that I haven’t eaten for god-knows-how-long. I need to find food or at least a way to obtain it quickly. I just hope I don’t run into Bill. That would be a nightmare, as the ache in my soul reminds me.

 

A chill runs through me, almost overcoming the hunger pangs. I can almost feel him through my entire being, almost feeling his ownership. Shuddering, I shake off the feeling, leaving the fairly plain room once and for all. 

The hall is much more ornate, reminding me of my dreams. I don’t really fit into this atmosphere with my t-shirt and jeans. Just another reminder how much of an outsider I am here. 

Scooting down the hall, I admire the decor until I finally reach a door from the endless corridor. I twist the doorknob, mercifully unlocked. Once opened, I am enveloped with the rich scents of pastry. Of meat and spice, of salt and sugar. I breathe in the scents heavily, the warm yellow glow surrounding me as I realize how hungry I truly am. 

I approach what looks to be a meat pie cooling on top of an oven, but I can’t seem to touch it. Growing increasingly frustrated, I attempt to grab a glass bowl and smash it against the pie, hoping that it will shatter whatever won’t let me reach the food. The dish seems to scoot away from my hand until it’s out of range, and I growl in frustration.

“Y/n.” A iced voice calls out my name like he’s done it everyday of his life. Great. The bastard’s back. I don’t respond, and he grips my shoulder hard until I cry out in pain. “Do I have your attention now?” He asks in the same tone. I nod mutely. “Good.” He seems satisfied. “Did you want to eat?”

 

I nod again to this. “You have to work for it.” He warns. He sounds almost happy to this. I have to eat or I’ll die and he knows it, so I nod a third time. “You understand the payment?” Yes I do you bastard. Another nod.

“Watch your tongue.” He warns. “I don’t appreciate your language towards me.” Great. So he can hear my thoughts now in close proximity. “Effect of the soul bond.” Bill explains. Wonderful. Stop reading my thoughts you son of a bitch. 

“Language.” He says, keeping his tone flat. I can hear the irritability in his voice. Fuck you. 

“I’ll stop reading your thoughts when I see fit.” He declares. Fuck my life. “Trust me, I’ll be more than happy to fuck the life out of you in a few days.” Bill promises, and I repress a shudder. Please stop reading my thoughts.

There’s a few seconds of silence. “Fine.” Bill finally agrees. The empty feeling in my chest is back, my soul missing it’s other half. 

 

“Follow.” The simple command rings with his power, and I can’t help but feel resentment as I do as he says. There’s a door at the end of the kitchen we go through, which leads to a room, presumably for eating, what with the table filled with food and everything. “Sit.” Bill commands again, and again, I do as he says, sitting in a chair next to the impossible meat pie.

Bill sits next to me and I hesitate as he starts into his food, afraid that this is another cruel trick and I’m not able to eat after all. Bill looks up, and sees me not eating. “Eat.” He commands me, and I start to eat, not sure if it’s because I want to or because he’s told me to. I’m not sure I could stop if I wanted to. 

“Do you remember a dream you had?” Bill starts talking to me, and I wipe my mouth, preparing to answer him. “No, of course you don’t, I wiped it from your memory.” He answers himself before I can. 

 

I set my fork down as he takes my hand. It’s like a wall was destroyed in my mind, allowing me access to the part he had previously blocked off. I remember the dream, and cringe at Bill’s statements as I relive them. 

I glance at him. He’s eating calmly, seemingly unconcerned on how anything affects me. “Are you finished?” He asks after I stare for a while. I shake my head no. I’m not finished eating. “Then I suggest you eat instead of staring at me.” He says it none too gently, and I flinch a bit as I bow my head over my food, taking bite after bite before he can take it away. 

 

When I am finally finish, I look up, and he’s staring at me. “Finished?” He asks again, and I nod this time. “Good. Then get up.” He commands, and I stand, following him again. 

We twist and turn down the corridor until we reach another door. What’s behind it turns out to be the room from my dreams, lavish in decor and comfort. A fire burns cheerfully in the grate as Bill sits, taking a glass of blood red wine and sipping it. At least, I hope it’s wine. 

I move to sit down myself, but Bill’s words stop me. “Don’t sit Y/n.” He says slowly, drawing out the words. Somehow I don’t think this will be good. 

 

 

“Strip for me first.”  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Did. . . did he actually. . .” The voice is faint, and even in the dim glow of my soul, I don’t dare to look at him, not past the flash of purple I can see. 

 

“Yes.” I cut off. “Yes. He did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And. . . Bill is officially crazy. I feel bad for everyone now waiting for next chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> Drop me a comment below if you want a question answered, or if you just want to motivate me to keep writing!


	12. Battlefield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case y'all are wondering why Y/n doesn't act like she _desperately_ loves Bill anymore, it's because he's decided to act like a sick fuck. She does still love him, but only shows it in extremes when he's kind or in moments of desperate passion. Take it as how you love your family, but don't always like them. She has a greatly enhanced love for Bill, but it's no longer over the top because, ya know, he's a complete bastard.

“You can’t be serious.”

I focus on the slow pulsing of the dim light of my soul. “Do I look like I’m joking?” I ask, and silence greets me. “He did.” I say softly. “He really did.”  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“W-what?” I ask, my voice and body trembling. 

He leans back into the chair further, still sipping his drink from the crystal glass. “You heard me. Strip for me.” 

“A-and if I refuse?” I ask, trying to steady out the waves in my voice. “You already ate the food.” Bill says calmly. “I can think of worse ways to pay me for it.”

“This is your _payment_ you sick fuck?” I ask, forgetting my fear. I suddenly remember when an apparition of red and black ghosts over him. “You would do well to remember who you’re talking to Y/n.” He says, not moving from his relaxed position, which scares me more. I know, and he knows I know, that he doesn’t need to. He could kill me from worlds away without lifting a finger, if he wanted to. Frozen with fear, I haven’t moved a muscle.

Bill raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to strip, or do I have to make you?” I shake my head vigorously. I will not lose my pride too. “You would do well to remember this next time.” Bill says before his tone takes that ominous tone of power again.

“Strip for me Y/n.” He commands, and his voice echoes within my mind. I shake, trying to fight the urge within my soul to do as he demands of me. But it’s too strong. My will and my body both bend to do as he asks, and I hear him suck in a small breath. It’s so faint that I almost miss it, but with my mind free to pick up on anything to ignore myself, I catch it.

“You’re a monster.” I murmur. “I’m a demon.” He corrects. “Quiet.” I fall silent at this command, and I have no choice but to focus on the motions. 

My hands pull up my shirt hem quickly. Even in this forced state, I’m eager to be finished. How far does he even want me to go?

Halfway off, Bill hisses in displeasure. “Slower.” He commands, and I find myself pulling it off like it’s stuck to my skin. When my shirt finally hits the floor, Bill’s eyes are already raking up and down the bare, newly exposed skin. I reach for the clasp on my bra, but Bill stops me there. “Not that.” He says, and I feel relieved as my hands reach instead for the button of my jeans. Somewhere in the journey, his commands stop being commands, his will of me melding with my own. Somehow, I want to do this. I want to please my lover. 

The button’s undone, and then the zipper, I slowly slide the jeans down my legs, stretching the limbs out slowly and letting the motions come naturally. Bill hums slightly as my ankles are freed. “Come here.” He says, and I approach him, feeling no shame in my next to naked state. He unfolds his legs, and I sit on his lap.

 

His long, slender fingers brush through my hair, reaching my bra clasp himself, and toying with it. “But you’re not 18.” He sighs, raising his hands back to my head where he roughly knots the hair around his fingers. I cry out in pain, and he smiles. “How beautifully you sing when injured, even in the slightest.” He lowers my mouth to his own, and kisses me harshly, his mouth on mine, his tongue dominating my own as he explores every inch. His other hand runs down my side, and I shiver at his touch. 

 

He lets me go after a long moment, shoves me away even and he stands up. “Get dressed. I have no more use of you tonight.” He snaps at me. “I’ll return later. You still have a price to pay. You disobeyed me tonight Y/n. You’re a traitor to your very soul.” 

His words cut deeper than any knife. Doesn’t he know how much I love him? “Bill!” I cry out to him as he stands, making me slide down to his ankles. He kicks me harshly. “Get out of my way.” 

“Bill!” I cry again. “Get dressed and go to bed.” He says, kicking me again, harder and throwing me off of him. 

 

He leaves, not even glancing back until he gets to the door. He half turns his face, and I can see he’s smirking before he’s gone. I stand, groaning as gravity presses onto the flowering bruises. I feel even emptier than before. Why do I always fuck everything up?

Head aching, not bothering to put my clothes back on, I climb into Bill’s bed. It dulls the emptiness of betraying my soul a little.

 

It’s not until I’m almost asleep that I realize everything that happened tonight was a varying degree of wrong.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Damn.” The voice whispers. 

 

I don’t look up at all, tears falling onto my soul. “I believed every word he said. I always did.” My voice breaks. “I was. . . I was so stupid wasn’t I?”

“Not stupid.” He assures me. “Just misguided. You just were just misled by the wrong person. You chose the wrong person to love and trust.”

“I do love him and trust him.” I say. “I can’t stop. The longer I’m from him, the clearer my vision becomes. But I can’t stop my feelings for him.”

My soul pulses as if sympathizing with me, and I clear my throat as it throbs particularly painfully. “I was almost 18 then. Only two days from it. And that was the day that I learned that Bill could make me do anything he wanted. Of course, he prefered that I do it of my own volition, but he loved watching me hate myself at first before I melted into the actions.” I can’t stop the flow of words. “He would expect payment for things, and it was always something I was uncomfortable with. . .” I finally manage to shut my mouth and trail off. 

 

For a moment, the silence of the void echoes again.

 

I take a breath and finally, simply state, “Love is a battlefield.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter started off good and slowly slid down the hill. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Poor Y/n though. . . Her love truly is a battlefield. A war in fact.
> 
>  
> 
> If you enjoyed, leave a comment! Ask questions or just generally give me fuel to keep writing! :)


	13. War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who was wondering what really happened to Y/n's family.

There’s really nothing to say. There’s nothing that either of us can say to make the pain better. But it gets worse. God. It always gets worse.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------

One day. Just one day until my 18th. It was all I could think of when I woke up.

Is this the path I would have chosen for myself if I had a choice? No. I would never have chosen this. If I ever make it out of here, I don't think I'll ever wish for love again. 

“Mom, Dad?” I whisper. “If you could see me now, would you be proud of me?” 

My birthday is tomorrow. And this can't hurt worse than it already does. Perhaps it's time to confront the past.

After all. The present is a demon. The past is merely a memory.

 

What really happened? I never let myself really recall the memory. All I remember is fire and that I was afraid. So afraid.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight. It's still painful, but I have to know. At this point, I can't stop the plaster of my mental wall from cracking and crumbling.

 

_I was asleep when I smelled the smoke. Awake suddenly, I was surrounded by fire. Yellow and blue fire everywhere. The heat was overwhelming, and I started crying. I heard my parents screaming as the fire burned them to ashes. But over that, I heard the fire crackling. And in the depths of the fire, there was laughter._

 

Breathing heavily, I jerk myself from the memory. I'm even more startled when I see the man in gold watching me from across the room. He arches an eyebrow gracefully. “Nice memory Y/n? Here. Let me share one of mine with you.” 

 

I'm sucked straight into another memory, almost before I see his mouth curve upwards into a smile. 

 

I instantly know this memory is not mine, mainly because I'm staring at myself. 

 

_The man whose memory this is stares at the girl on the bed. Her name is Y/n. He laughs gently. “You may be useful to me someday. I see a great future for you little girl.” He touches her forehead delicately with one finger and she stirs, frowning slightly. The man laughs again. “Oh yes. Great things. Suppose we change your destiny a bit? We'll cross paths down the road. And your life will be forfeit.”_

_He floats gently away from her, almost lazily until he reaches the girls parents, halfway around her house. “Now you.” The man says. “Your time is over. I've decided it.” His fingers click together, and like a lighter, a small flame, shifting blue and yellow appears. He flicks it away, and it takes to the dry wood quickly. It greedily licks up to the bed, and the couple wakes up. They scream for help, for anyone, and the man laughs. He watches as they are consumed by the fire, watches as the panicked girl, Y/n wakes up, afraid with nowhere to go. She's confused as she's shielded from the fire, afraid of her parents’ screams. The house burns to ash around her, her parents’ bodies part of the ash that's on her face, in her hair, on her skin, everywhere. When the police and fire department finally get there, Y/n is screaming. No, this girl won't willingly sleep for sometime, she won't let these memories bleed back into her head. She's too afraid and too traumatized. She needs to love someone and she has no one._

_The man, no, **the demon** , laughs. He disappears quietly, with Y/n’s destiny in his mind. _

 

I recoil sharply from the memory, fresh tears streaming down my cheeks. “I-I. . .” I can't form words as Bill smirks at me. 

“I killed them. Thanks for the memory.” He turns on his heel again. “Happy day before Y/n. I hope you enjoy it.”  
\-------------------------------------------------------

The shadows never call retreat. Like friends, they cover me. Tears spill as the bloodstained fabric I wear refuses to wipe them away. They slide off and land somewhere in the endless darkness. 

 

And I sit in the emptiness, listening to the throb of my soul, waiting for my tears to land somewhere, wishing my life could have been different. My heart is torn apart by this mockery of the thing I once treasured. By this war.

 

“My love is a war.” I whisper into the sound of silence. And it doesn't answer me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bill's a complete dick, and also, Y/n's birthday is fast approaching! The storm's brewing just over the horizon, and I don't think that she's going to be able to run for shelter in time. . .  
> \----------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> Please leave a comment if you have a question or just to keep me writing if you enjoy this story!


	14. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All said and done, trauma breaks people. And poor Y/n is left to pick up her shattered pieces.

In the silence, I almost thought that the man in the void, the man I hated but was happy to have there, had gone. “H-hello?” I hiccuped. “Be rest assured, I'm still here.” He answered me, laying a hand on my shoulder, his purple sleeve just coming into range of the light of my soul. 

“O-okay.” My voice was fast cracking into pieces, perhaps a million. It was breaking, like me. How could I deal with so much groundbreaking trauma? How could I have lived through all that and still be just now dead? Too many questions were spinning in my head.

 

“Are you alright?” The voice asked. “Why do you even bother asking when you can just read my mind like _him_?” I accuse. “Hell, I don't even know who you are. You could be Bill for all I know.” 

 

I can almost hear him smile gently. “I may be a tad strange, but I'm certainly not Bill Cipher.” He says carefully. “I promise that I won't hurt you Y/n. I just need to know everything that happened. I don't know what we can do about Bill, or even if we can do anything about Bill. But we can help you. Send you to Heaven, Elysium, whatever you believe in, or give you another chance at life. I know this is all painful and foreign for you, but we need you to tell us what happened so that you can move on in one way or another. Do you understand?”

I nod slowly. “Y-yeah.” I pause steadying my voice. “I understand.”  
\-----------------------------------------------------------

I sat there, numb for awhile. I for some reason, couldn't process what Bill had said and shown me. When it finally did process, it hit me like a ton of bricks. He killed my family. For what? The sake of bending my destiny into something slightly different? 

What gave him the right to decide who lives and who dies? Who gave him permission to play God? 

 

I slowly get up, peel off the blankets, don't bother to pick up my clothes, don't bother to put anything on. There has to be a blade somewhere around here. There has to be something sharp. Pulling open a heavy dresser drawer almost dislocated my shoulder, and seeing the contents made me slam it shut immediately, embarrassed. Yeah, no.

I open another one, taking care of the force I use, and I'm lucky this time. The drawer had a lock, but it wasn't sealed. It was open, leaving me free to access it. And it's full of blades. The top drawers contents and this drawer's both confirm what I already knew. Bill’s a sadist. But I won't need to know that in five minutes. In five minutes, I'll be dead. 

I pull one of the blades from the drawer, cutting my fingers, but I don’t care. It’s just a small amount of pain. It’s nothing like it could be if I continue on. There’s an air of finality as I run a finger of my other hand along the blade and a blood droplet blossoms, staining a small section of the shiny silver metal crimson. It’s sharp, just how I need it to be. I raise it above my arm. I know exactly what vein to cut through. I know exactly where to cut so it will kill me. 

Strong arms around me. Strong arms pinning mine to my sides. His grip around my wrist, twisting it and forcing me to drop the knife. I cry out from the cruel pain and loss of the blade. “I told you I’d always know.” He hisses. “Where you are, what you’re doing. I told you I’d always know.” Tears flow freely. “So? You killed my family.” I accuse. “I'm just saving both of us time and trouble by killing myself.” 

 

His grip on my wrist is suddenly much tighter. “You aren't _allowed_ to kill yourself. I, and _only_ I, get to decide when you die.” His body pressed against mine, I'm afraid he's going to kill me right now. I may want to die, but my basic human instinct is to _not_ die. I don't want him to break my neck or stab me with a blade and watch me bleed out. I want to die, but not like that.

 

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by agony. Something. . .broke. I look at my wrist, searing with white-hot pain. Bill's holding a mangled mess. His fingers are starting to stain a deep red and I can see a flash of white. I can _feel_ his radiating, malicious smile. “You don't have the right to die until I decide you should die. You don't have rights.” He pauses for a minute. “Actually, you do have one right. You have the right to pain.”

He lets go of me, but not my wrist, instead pulling me along with him into an ornate bathroom. He opens his hand up to assess the damage on my wrist and I make a mistake. I look.

Flesh is torn as though by claws and white bone is visible. Blood clots on the edges and flows freely in the middle. Bill turns on the tap in the sink and pushes my wrist under it. Ever so gently, he starts cleaning the wound off and out. It stings, but not as much as the agony of my wrist being broken in itself. The water flows red, then pink, and finally clear. He turns off the tap and reassesses my wrist. 

 

It isn't as bad now that he's cleaned away all the blood. It's only a small break, and it's a clean break. Not nearly as bad as it could have been. It will heal quickly. Bill pushes the bones back together and I hiss through my teeth at the action. He takes a roll of thick bandages and begins to wrap. 

He wraps until the slowly forming pinkish red stain doesn't show through. He wraps until I can't move my wrist, and then it's set. All cut and dried, Bill says, “Don't move that if you want your wrist to heal.”

 

I bitterly ask, “Why even bother? You’re probably just fixing it so you can hurt me again.” Bill hums quietly for a second, then, not missing a beat, says, “I don't want to break my new toy too much yet. But be confident that I'll break you in soon. Your 18th is tomorrow.” 

His proclamation does nothing to reassure me. This is the man who hurts me and then fixes me. Here is the demon who shatters me in every way and then picks up the pieces. 

 

My 18th, the day of becoming an adult, a day I should have looked forward to, looms in the future eerily. And it bears _nothing_ but ill tidings.  
\---------------------------------------------------------

I take a second to rest my voice from telling the void, the fates I suppose, my story. I laugh bitterly. “He could take everything away from me. My life, my love, my rights, my joy, hell. He could even take away my body in more than one way.” I stare off into the void for a second as if I'm waiting for something to appear. Anything. Perhaps a sign of hope, always so desperately craved for before.

 

But as always, nothing comes. I sigh, drawing my attention back to now from what could have been.

“I just always had to learn to pick up the pieces and deal with the aftermath.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get a better view on the void man, and his relationship with Y/n improves. (Did anyone catch the hint he dropped?) Unfortunately, the day of grace she has before her 18th birthday is drawing quickly to a close, and she knows it.
> 
> I feel like I'm spiraling deeper down the rabbit hole of madness with this story.  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> If you enjoyed, please leave a comment. Ask the characters or myself a question, or just give me fuel to keep writing. See you there! :)


	15. My 18th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Start of Y/n's 18th birthday. Parts may not mesh as coherently as I hoped they would, but I was reminded by the title that Y/n _is_ still a teenager. A teenager who's been through a lot of stuff, but still a teenager.
> 
> Finishing of her 18th and the aftermath will come next chapter.

“I couldn’t explain it. I never could. Before this, if you’d asked me how my life was, I would have winced but told you it was perfectly normal.” I confided in the man of the void. “I knew my relationship with Bill was screwed from the start, but how could I say that we weren’t okay? That my life wasn’t normal? It would have been like saying I didn’t love him. But I did, I do. God, I love him. I couldn’t deny that. But. . .” Tears roll down my face, fresh and salty. There must be an ocean somewhere below at this point. “But as one of my last dying thoughts was, love is only as strong as the heart that holds it.”

 

He gently takes the soul from me, and it’s a strange but comforting feeling. “You’re heart’s not weak.” He says softly. Then the splitting pain starts, and I double over in agony. Coughing, I cup my hand over my mouth, trying to stop the horrible taste, but it comes away wet. Blood. I feel like I’m being torn apart, like my entire being is violated and dying as my companion cups my soul uncertainty. My head is pounding and my vision is fuzzy. I think I’m going to die again. I’m somehow able to hold out a bloodstained hand for the soul and he places it in my palm, the gold band shining brightly.

My vision clears, my head stops spinning and I’m able to straighten. But it still feels like there are claws constricting around my soul. “Heh, um, let’s not do that again.” I say awkwardly, trying to pull myself together. “I don’t really think that was the best idea.”  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How do I describe waking up that day? It was Hell where there should have been Heaven. I didn’t feel any different, but I knew I was. Bill was nowhere to be seen, not that I was complaining. I’d rather not see him for the rest of my life. 

Unfortunately, that wasn't an option since I was living with him. Put that way, it almost sounded like a normal boyfriend-girlfriend function. But it wasn't. Nothing about this screwed up situation would ever be “good” or “normal”. 

Maybe, if I just go back to bed, I can pretend this day never happened. Maybe I can sleep through it and the demon will leave me alone. I fell back onto the bed, closing my eyes. If I could just sleep. . .

 

Drifting off again, I heard a voice in my dreams. _“Wake up Y/n. . .”_ I opened my eyes. Oh yeah. My dreams aren't safe either.

I grab a pillow and push it over my face. I scream into it, frustrated. Today reminds me that I’m still just a teenager. The past days have made me feel like I bear the weight of the world on my shoulders.

It's snatched from my face, and I'm left blinking against the harsh light. Bill leers over the edge of my vision. “Wake up Y/n. No suicide for you, especially today.” I blink, partly because of the light and partly because his words are garbage to my confused brain and still screaming mouth. Bill lays a finger against my lips. “Shh. . .” he whispers.

I shut up, craving more of his touch, but his skin soon, much too soon, leaves mine. And then he's gone, like a whirlwind, in just a mere instant.

I drag myself out of bed and don the outfit that is lying there on a chair. A mid-length dress of sunshine and simple flats of midnight. Let's just get this day over with.

 

Scurrying through the hallways, I go until I find a door that's open. The kitchen. It's not in the same place I remember it being at all. I think this place is changing to infuriate me, rather like Bill. 

I know he's waiting for me in the dining room, just like I know I should hurry as not to provoke his black rage. But I don't want to hurry. I want to stall as long as I can. 

When I finally reach the dining room, dragging my feet the entire way, I catch a glimpse of Bill's dark expression. Sitting as far away from him as possible, I waited for him to say something. “You're late.” His voice was laced with malice, like a deadly poison. I don’t reply, instead choosing to shove some food into my mouth. 

 

We’re both silent for a minute before his mouth quirks up into a sick semalance of a smile. “Well. Are we choosing to be naughty today?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bill treats her somewhere between that of his lover, his pet, his possession, his toy, and a two year old depending on the day. Today, we're going for somewhere closer to his pet, his possession, or his toy apparently. Either way, fuck you Bill. You're a piece of shit.
> 
> Oh yeah, also, that thing at the beginning will (probably) be expanded on. Also, it will become more relevant at some point (probably in the second book which is more planned out than this one).  
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> If you have questions for me or the characters, comments, or support, (or just want to give me fuel to keep writing) leave a comment! See you there! :)


	16. Nightfall Is Never The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know this chapter took _way_ too long to come out. I'm sorry. I had writer's block when I got towards the end for about a week and a half or so. The cursor was just mocking me. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

I cupped another steaming mug of whatever the hell this was in my hands, taking small sips of the liquid as I spoke. “I was so afraid you know.” I said. “The morning is the beginning. But nightfall is never the end.”  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------

I couldn't look at him anymore. The sick, sadistic, half-smile on his face; the lustful, possessive gleam in his eye. . . I couldn't handle it. I wish I could flee, run away; far away. Anywhere but here. To anyone but Bill. But my life wasn't mine to decide. No. I gave that up the moment that I shook his hand in the forest on that rainy day.

 

Blinking back tears, I choked out a “No sir.” The crystal droplets fell anyway, shining and clear, leaving dew on the table. “Shh. . .” I felt his presence drifting closer, ghosting right behind me. “Shh. . .” He soothed again. “Your tears mean nothing here. Do not waste them.” His tone was gentle, but as always, it carried an edge of malice. 

Wiping my eyes with the heel of my hand, I nodded slowly.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------

I coughed slightly, then cleared my throat. “He was right you know.” I stared at my hands, folded around the cup on my lap. “Whether from his words or not, I wouldn't shed another tear that night.”  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------

I looked up to meet the solid gold of his irises; the hard, cold metal that had first entranced me and now kept me trapped.

“Good girl.” They glowed, the gold almost alive, molten. It filled me with an almost warmth. Smiling hesitantly, I let him sweep me up into his arms. 

 

Maybe this could be my fairytale after all?

 

 

Hours later, huddling in on myself; sitting on the cold floor with no clothes, I remembered the irony of possibly thinking that this story could be **any** kind of fairytale. 

Shuddering unintentionally, my mind floated back to what happened.

 

_He carried me to his bedroom, dropping me into the luxury of his sheets. An idiot’s smile plastered across my face, I watched him shuck his shirt and throw it haphazardly to the floor. Then, his lips were on mine, hot and passionate._

_I reached up, my hand light and small in his tousled hair; he reached down, wrapping my body into his arms. The kiss broke and I was panting slightly for air. His arms left me, and I jumped as I felt his hand on my bare inner thigh. “Shh. . .” He whispered, and I smiled, letting him comfort me with the small statement. His hand made its way under the hem of the yellow dress and a few minutes later, when I lay completely bare before him, the pain started._

_Knives and chains. Bruises and blood. I thought he loved me. I let him hurt me. But when he finally took me in the worst way possible, I begged. I begged him, I offered him anything and everything I had. I didn’t want him to hurt me anymore. He didn’t stop._

_I thought he loved me, truly, maybe at least this once. But when he finally got off of me, he said not a word, leaving me like a broken toy on the bed. I didn’t cry. Not even after he left. When I had the strength, I curled up in a corner of the room. But I didn’t cry. No. I wouldn’t cry for him._

This day started at the dawn. But the dusk wasn’t the end of it. Because nightfall is never the end. Nor would it ever be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a depressing ending, but that's basically how Y/n's birthday ends.
> 
> On a lighter note, leave your questions down in the comments for either the characters or I, and I'll have a Q and A when we reach chapter 20. (If you leave enough questions)
> 
> People available for questions:
> 
> Me (Author)  
> Y/n  
> Mabel  
> Dipper  
> Bill  
> Void Man
> 
>  
> 
> Also, if you just like the story, leave me a comment! They're very helpful to keep me writing! ;)


	17. Last Chance?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry y'all! I had some serious writer's block before I went on break and then I had a little after. But I'm back! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

I sip from my mug. “The world’s a hell of a place, isn’t it?” I ask the void man. He laughs in the pitch blackness. “Sometimes.” He says. “Sometimes it truly is Y/n.”

I work up the nerve slowly and ask him the question I’ve been wondering for some time now. “How do you know Bill?” I inquire. “It’s. . . personal for us.” The man starts, choosing his words carefully. “We’ve known each other for a very long time.” He seems relatively uncomfortable with the subject. “That may be a story for another day. Could you continue with what happened?” He asks. I nod, swallowing the sip of the drink.   
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A little over a week after the incident, I was still avoiding him whenever I could. Trying to find the exit was a nightmare in the labyrinth of hallways and corridors that were constantly shifting and changing. I would get lost for hours on end before finally stumbling around to an unlocked door and collapsing on whatever bed was inside. I lived day by day, searching for an exit that I had despairing hope existed. I slept in whatever bedroom was open, I ate whenever I woke up and found food placed in the room; supposedly for me.

 

I had yet to see many people most days, if any. When I called out to them, they didn't even turn; like I didn't exist. I began to wonder if they were figments of my imagination, dreamed up in the loneliness of my isolation. 

I decided that I was slowly going mad; trapped within the walls of my prison. After all, for all its lush furniture, all of its extravagant decor, all of its sprawling space; at heart it was nothing more than my prison. Nothing more than my cage I was trapped in. A palace, but I was no princess. 

 

I knew I couldn't hide from Bill forever. He would find me, trap me, make me pay my debt owed. Hell, he might even be watching right now. But I had to find an exit. This could be my last chance to run. Bill had already broken; no, crushed, my wrist. What if he broke my legs next? Or worse, what if he suspected me too much of trying to run and broke my spine? 

 

I would never be able to walk again. The thought turned my stomach and chilled me to the bone. This could be the last chance I get in my whole life. I have to make it count. 

What would possibly happen if I didn't? What could possibly happen if I did? He had control over me. My body and my soul. What if that control persisted past this place, assuming I could even find a way out of here; assuming I could even find the way home. But hope was all I had; I couldn't just give up on it. 

 

What I didn't know was that Bill was watching me at that moment. About to go to bed, I murmured a prayer to my god quietly. Slipping underneath the soft sheets of the bed, I fell asleep.

 

I don't know how much later it was when I woke up and felt the bed sink with the weight of another person next to me. With no introduction to the topic at all, he started talking. “You know Y/n, it's very interesting how long a human can survive. I mean, your body is so resilient. It's amazing how much of you I can cut off and still have you survive.” 

My blood ran cold, and I turned over to face him. All I could see were his sparkling gold eyes. “What do you want Bill?” I ask him. “To teach you a lesson.” He replied. “Now come on. Get up.” He hit my side in a slightly rough gesture, and I moved slowly, still tired. “Lights!” Bill called out and they came on, blindingly bright as I staggered to my feet. Bill gave me another command as soon as I stood. “On your knees.” He said. He was standing next to me, his breath hot in my ear. 

 

Complying, I got down unto my knees, the tall demon towering over me. He started humming to himself, twirling a blade that was surely not there a minute ago. I struggled to try to get to my feet, to run, anything. His magic held me down, trapped in front of him and entirely at his mercy. He bent down, eyes level with my face and whispered to me. “I’m going to hurt you so badly that you won't know anything but pain.” Bill promises me. “I'm going to start cutting off your skin, flesh, and bone. I'll let your blood leak out slowly, but I won't let you die. I'll make sure you feel everything.” I shudder at his cruel words. 

Fact. The human body has between ten and twelve pints of blood. Fact. Losing as little as 25% of it could kill me. That’s only two to three pints. Losing five to six pints will definitely kill me. Fact. I don’t know if Bill knows that.   
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I shiver, as if to ward off a chill. I can almost feel his cold hands on my back, my shoulders. Gripping my arms in a jealous, possessive touch. His hot breath is almost on my neck. 

But another pair of hands, strong hands; warm hands, are shaking me. And a voice drifting in and out. Bill’s ghostly touches are gone, leaving only the warm, solid, man of this void. “Are you okay?” He asks me. 

 

I take a shaky breath, and let it out slowly. “I will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave a comment if you enjoyed! Also, don't forget to leave questions for the Q/A!


	18. Night Terrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't posted in a while y'all! Hope you enjoy the new chapter!
> 
> Leave a comment at the end if you hate Bill! :)

“No one but us realizes the true beauty of these things. The silver of the knife, matching your soul. The soft glow of my golden light. The blood pooling softly to the floor. Your blood. The simple fluttering of a broken heart and a broken mind.” Bill whispers. It’s in his hand. The light blade in his slender, almost feminine fingers. His eyes are hard when I meet them. 

His mouth crooks up into a cruel smirk. “Y/n, you have no idea what you’re doing, testing me.” He says. And I know I don’t. I never have. 

 

My heart is pounding; my adrenaline pumping. I can't move. Bill tosses the knife, then catches it, adjusting the grip in his hand. The anticipation is killing me. He likes hurting me. And that’s the only thing he likes me for. I need him in a way he'll never need me.

 

Pain. Sharp, white hot, pain. The blade of the knife slid through my shoulder as easily as though I was made of paper. I cry out as the knife pulls out, slow and steady. “I love you.” I say, my voice cracking. “That won’t save you.” He replies. His voice is flat, but if I listened closely, I could hear the giddiness, the rush, hidden in its depths. “I know. . .” I whisper.

It's all a blur of pain, screaming, and the cruel laughter. Blood's everywhere. It's red. So loud, so bright. . . I think I'm dying.

 

 

I bolted upright in the bed, breathing hard. It was a dream. All a dream. I'm fine. Just a wild dream. I'm in bed at home, I'll flip on my light, call Mabel. . . and then there's a hand on my thigh and my breath hitches again.

“Y/n.” Bill's calmly cold voice states. “Calm down. You're of no use to me in this state. There's a reason that you were hurt in a dream.” My heart rate slowly starts to even out and I start to calm down.

Bill’s right. I could have done much worse if he had hurt me on this plane of reality. What a depressing revelation, that I have to use ‘less pain’ as a reason to justify his actions. 

“Come back to me Y/n. Maybe I won't hurt you, this time.” Bill speaks softly. Yeah sure. And maybe pigs will grow wings and fly.

But in the end, I accept, like he knows I will. There's not a chance I could ever win and he knows it. “There we are my sweet Y/n.” He whispers to me. “You're mine, and only mine. Don't you ever forget that.” I nod easily. It's the easiest, and only thing, I can do.  
\-----------------------------------------------

I slowly let out a breath I barely knew I'd been holding. “I'm not sure if I could have ever found a way out.” I admit. “But I was carefully kept under strict watch. Bill would deliberately ignore me for days on end. I was convinced that I was alone, a ghost. Hidden in my misery even to the man I loved.”  
\----------------------------------------------

I started to break down soon then.

If he would only love me like I love him. Like someone out there hopefully loves me. My heart aches and cries out in pain, longing for him. If I'm very quiet, and very still, I can feel the whole culmination of my being, my soul, crying out for him. As his control gets stronger, as I get farther away, the tremors start. After that, the fevers. The nausea. The sickness until he catches up to me. When his arms wrap around me everything stops. The symptoms, the pain, and even time. I feel safe for a moment in my heart and my soul. 

 

But some part of my soul, some corner that is still wholly and truly mine, calls out. Not for Bill. No. It almost _screams_ when I'm with him. That corner calls for someone that I have yet to meet. Someone far, far away.

But far, far away, that person's soul? I can hear it calling for me too. And every night, they cry together. At the pain of not knowing. At the pain of not meeting. And together, they weep for me. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment if you enjoyed the chapter!
> 
> Don't forget that the Q/A is coming up soon in chapter 20! Please leave any and all questions for it in the comments section!  
> (Answers may or may not be cannon. If you tell Dipper/Mabel to punch Bill, they will but it will not effect the main story. But if you ask Bill why he's such a sadist or something like that, the answer will be completely cannon to the work.)
> 
>  
> 
> Huge shoutout to the guest user who left a bunch of questions on the last chapter! Thank you very much!


	19. Used

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry y'all, writer's block is not kind to me, that's why updates are so sporadic. Hope you enjoy!

The color of everything when I awoke was slightly. . . off of the scheme I had come to know, and to be quite frank, somewhat hate. The air seemed stale and it crackled with tension. I already knew that this would not be a day that was up to par. Not that the normal days were wonderful by any means either. 

 

On a good day, I would wake up at some point. Time was almost meaningless here, at least to me. Bill seemed to have some system of keeping up with the current time and date. I only knew that at night, it was darker and silent in this polished palace of his. But both day and night always seemed both too short and yet endless.

After rousing from my sleep, if I was lucky I had no dreams, I would either find a meal of some type in my room, presumably the kind being served at the time I awoke, or wander around until I found a room that served something edible. Whether tastelessly bland or absurdly rich, I would eat whatever I came across. I once ate nothing for many days until Bill appeared and manipulated my soul into a strange form of force feeding me. I always ate after that occurrence.

I would wander the halls aimlessly, read a book, write a letter proclaiming my love and hate to the demon or one that the friends I wrote it to would never read, anything to avoid the insanity of being alone. If I saw Bill, if it was a good day, he would ignore me. As always, on the off chance I saw anyone else, I didn’t exist to them. That was the one difference between the two. Bill ignored me, to the others, I didn’t exist. 

 

I would eventually eat another one or two meals and when the place went dark and silent, I would find myself back in Bill’s bedroom; our bedroom, and I would sleep. Cut and dried, rinse and repeat. 

 

But today was not a good day, as marked by the stench of hopelessness and an aching death in the air. I could not follow the hesitant schedule that I had planned out, and I could not avoid damage today. 

The golden glow of the place was dimmed, as though grown cloudy. I pulled myself out of bed and dressed slowly, painstakingly, a thousand hot needles pricking my skin every second. I could feel eyes upon me, they devoured every inch of my flesh with their invisible gaze and at that moment, I almost climbed back into bed. Perhaps if I had, it would have been better. 

I encountered him barely two steps out of my room. His golden rings gleamed, a sharp contrast to his black gloves. The golden topaz gleamed dully, almost as his eyes did. “Y/n.” He greeted, his voice slightly slurred. He reeked of alcohol, and a strong brew at that. “Get away from me.” I said shortly, in no mood to deal with him sober, much less drunk. I needed food and then a nice long bath. The environment was too tense.

As I tried to skirt around him, he caught my arm in an iron grip. “Ah Y/n, where do you think you’re going?” He smirked. “I didn’t give you permission to leave yet.” I winced at his tight hold, but told him, “I am going. I don’t have to deal with you while you’re drunk.” A certain kind of stubborness burned through me. I had dealt with this for far too long by now.

His mouth was suddenly by my ear. “Oh but my dear, you do. Did you forget that I own you?” Wonderful. I shoved him away from me. “Stop it Bill.” His expression turned ugly as he dragged me back into the bedroom. He threw me down on the still unmade bed and towered above, looming as though an unwanted shadow would. “I took you in!” He shouted. “This is how you treat my kindness?” I started to duck as he became increasingly more aggressive. “I give you a place to live, food, clothes, I let you love me! I took you away from the world, and protected you here!” Then came the biting words. “Who else would want you anyway? If I weren’t here, you would be alone forever.” 

His words shattered my heart into pieces of glass that flew out in all directions, striking me. Cold and unfeeling, I just nodded numbly. “Of course. . .” I muttered. “I’m sorry. . .” Noncognitive, I only needed him to love me. I only needed him to push me down on the bed and use me. I needed to feel something. Anything.

“Show me how sorry you are.” He smirked. I fell to the floor like a rock on my hands and knees as he unbuttoned his pants. I just needed to feel. Needed to love. Needed something. My friends came and went. My family was gone. My God didn’t answer anymore. Bill was my only constant. My only stable base. He didn’t leave even when I screamed at him, he didn’t leave even when I begged him. He knew I needed him, and he stayed by my side. He just wanted to help.

I barely felt it when Bill picked me up and pushed me back on the bed. Barely smelled the alcohol on his breath. I barely felt him tear my clothes from me. I barely felt his body on mine. Empty. Cold. He was warm and full of life.

And now I was warm and full. I needed to be warm and full. And Bill could give me that. I just had to let go of the fraying rope that I was holding onto. His mouth was hot on my cold flesh. I was so weak, but he was strong in everything he did. If I could just let him in. . . If I could just accept he wasn’t the bad guy. . . The warmth was gone. Bill was next to me, his arm around me, his abs on my shoulder. I floated away, my dreams filled with golds and fire. 

When I woke up, Bill was gone. I was broken, used, dirty. He made me dirty. And no one would ever want a broken angel. He was right. If he didn’t keep me here, hold me, kiss me, break me, no one would ever have loved me. I was used, but he used me. I loved him. And that was okay. He could have me for the rest of my life. Time stood still here, just him and I.

Scars faded, cuts healed, bruises vanished. Love lingers. I stretched a gentle hand to my stomach. He wouldn’t be happy. Or maybe he would. Maybe he would be happy to have a child with me. 

 

Maybe then he would love me. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you still with child?” The man asked me, his soft bangs brushing my face as he leaned towards me. “No.” I replied, my voice cracking. “H-he didn’t. . . he. . . he didn’t want a pregnant bitch. He didn’t need it. He took out my soul and cut the child’s out of it. I screamed. I screamed until I thought I was deaf. I screamed until I thought I’d never speak again. He just laughed. He laughed at my pain, he sneered at the thought of me being a mother. And he crushed the child’s soul, robbing it of life before it even had a chance to live. I cried, and he left. I felt it die. I felt it die, and he laughed.” I swallowed hard. 

“He’s cruel Y/n. A tornado wrapped up inside a peppermint. So sweet when you first meet him, so deceptive, but then he’s completely violent and rotten. He doesn’t care who you are. He doesn’t care what you’ve done. He’ll destroy you either way. He’ll use you and leave you for dead.” 

 

Maybe he did. But maybe I wanted to die anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drunk Bill is less fun than normal Bill. 
> 
> Let me know what you think down below! Thanks for reading, and I'll see you in the comments!


	20. Why Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Q&A will be posted as soon as this chapter is! Thank y'all for sticking around with me for this long.

One question kept revolving around me. My brain kept turning it around seemingly without an answer. Why me? Why did it have to be me? Why was I the pawn?

Why did Bill see me as different? Why was I his punching bag and his sex toy? More than that, why did he want me when no one else ever would? 

Why did he want me when he didn't even want his child? I still felt the fresh ache in my soul and throughout my entire body. The loss of part of myself. A life ripped away and consumed by darkness before it could grow strong. I would never get to see my child grow up, would never teach them how to walk. Never patiently help them tie their shoes, never kiss and bandage their cuts and scrapes. I would never get to see them run and play, make friends and get hurt. Not their first crush nor their first heartbreak.

But maybe it was for the better that I child would never share this life. A child wouldn't be able to understand why they were being hit. A lump formed in my throat. I wouldn't wish this life on my worst enemy, much less a child of mine. Perhaps it was better that I alone bear Bill's torment and rage. No one deserved what I go through.

I can't stop loving him. I can't leave him. I can't even find an exit from this massive maze of a cage. I can't tell the time passing and I can't even die. I let the crystal droplets of silver tears fall down my cheeks and to the shining golden floor. 

I could stand defiant. I could lash back with biting words. I could say every word that would hurt him. Except it wouldn't. And he would slowly break my defenses, crumble down my walls until I sobbed in front of him. He would hurt me badly, then when I felt he was my savior and the only person I could ever love, he would take me to bed. He would wreck me and leave me. 

In the grand scheme of things, my defiance and rage would matter little. No, it would only lead to more trust and love, followed by pain and heartbreak. He thrived on my pain. It was futile.

Why did I have no escape from this Hell? Why did the demon choose me to love him? My heart was breaking in half again. I would never be able to feel the warm embrace of a lover. Never feel his soft lips against mine in a gesture of promise. Promise to love me, to want me. To never break me. I would never know what it was like to be loved unconditionally and to be put first. Not to be used every night and day for personal gain or pleasure. 

“You were always meant to be broken.” Bill says, reading my thoughts. He leans on the doorframe, taking up the entire space with his tall figure. But I don't want to be broken. I want to be loved. I don't want to hurt anymore. “I was always there, watching you grow up. I've known you longer than you've known yourself. You were made for my pain. Grown for me to break you.” 

He walks over to me, each step measured and carefully placed. “You were made for me.” His gloved fingers reach up, carefully brushing my face in a tender, almost loving gesture. Then he grabs my face in an iron grip, painful and unrelenting. “I can make you fall for me in a single gesture, and break you in just one more.” 

I advert my gaze from him, but he corrects it almost automatically. “Look at me.” I look into his golden eyes, hard and unfeeling. There was always something dangerous in his eyes. Something buried deep, some hunger. For power, for control. I could never figure him out. 

He was lustful, but could do without me. He needed me, but would throw me away. He seemed to want me dead, but wouldn't allow me to finish it myself. 

“W-why?” I choked on my own words. I had lost my freedom, so much more so than an unruly teenager locked in their room, missing their link to the outside world. It was so much more, a futile drowning feeling, stuck in an endless well and not knowing how to swim. Knowing that it was only so long before I drowned.

His words were slow. Careful. Deliberate. “You never had any freedom. You were molded into the young woman who would belong to me. From the moment you were born, I had already claimed you.” My nails dug crescent moons into my palms. “Bastard.”

“What?” He asked, his voice low and dangerous. I knew he knew exactly what I had said. “Bastard.” I stood off against him, challenging what he would do. He had my wrists together in his hand in a moment. “Do it.” I taunted.

“Don't you know that's not a good idea, little girl?” His eyes glowed ethereally, staring into my soul, which was linked with his. They told me that he was not afraid to hurt me. Not afraid to cause me to feel pain. He would find joy in my pain and sorrow, just as he had done before and would again. 

I experienced everything in slow motion. He pulled out a dagger, shining. Blood dripped to the floor as I felt a burning stripe across my wrist. It sliced through a spiralling tendril of blue lying just underneath my skin.

His words were an earthquake vibrating violently against the inside of of my skull. “I never cared about you. And I never will.” 

Rain splashed against my face, making a harmonious sound as it hit the floor in sync with my blood. “Yes. Cry for me.” Bill hissed. “Your blood, your tears, they all belong to me.” 

 

“I. . . I love y-you Bill. . .”

“I know.

 

And then he was gone again, leaving me cold, bleeding, and all alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly never thought that anyone would ever read this story, much less like it. So thank you all for that. You guys keep me going.


	21. Chapter 20 Q&A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Q&A! It is not necessary to read this, but if you do, please leave a comment at the end! (It'll help me know who read it, who liked it, and if I should ever do anything like this again.)

In a dark room, a figure walks out on stage. The lights suddenly click on, illuminating her. “Welcome one and all to the Q&A!” She cries out into the empty auditorium. She seems a little afraid herself. “My name is Vida, and I’ll be your host today.” She stops to nervously look offstage.

“The available people to answer questions today are Mabel, Dipper, the void man, Bill Cipher, Y/n, and our author.” She’s fully aware there’s no one here listening to her, but she continues. “Come on out!” Dipper and Mabel walk out, hand in hand, whispering to each other. They’re followed by Bill, who yawns and appears bored as he takes his seat. A man cloaked in darkness, defying physics appears next, taking a seat as far away from Bill as possible. Y/n walks carefully onstage, sitting by Mabel. 

“So our first set of questions come from a guest comment entitled ‘Questions!’” Vida shifts notecards in her hands, and in her rush, ends up dropping them all on the floor. “This will never work.” Bill says, bored. “No one even cares.”

Vida picks up the cards carefully, shuffling them until they’re all too mixed to matter. Then she throws them out into the audience of people that has suddenly gathered. She smiles, taking a seat right next to Bill, shutting him up.

“Bill!” Someone calls off from a card. “First off, what the fuck dude? Are you just some kind of possessive yandere? Aka, the WORST kind of yandere to ever exist, or do you have motives to your behavior?”

Bill turns, a gleam in his eyes. “First off,” he says, mocking the tone of the question, “Be careful how you speak to me. I’m not someone you want to be on the bad side of. And I do have motives. I’m not that shallow. You are all just too stupid to figure it out.” He reclines in his chair, leaning back against nothing and kicking his feet up. He puts his hands behind his head with a smug look.   
“Y/n, do you think Bill would ever truly love you?” Another voice cries out. She chews her lip just a bit before answering. “I would hope he would, but I don’t think so.” She seems slightly sad as she replies. “He’s never shown any indication that he even wants me.” 

“Author?” Someone asks, and Vida’s head snaps up, focusing. “What are your plans for Y/n and Bill’s relationship? Are you thinking more along the lines of ‘you are a toy, you mean nothing to me, but you will love me anyway’ relationship? Or maybe an ‘I love you, I am just fucking terrible at showing it, one day I may learn’ vibe?”

Vida thinks for a minute. “I started out this story with a specific purpose in mind. Where it was going, what I was going to do with it. But now I’m not so sure. It’s take on a life of its own, and I can’t say I’m sorry for that. It’s grown and changed and evolved, but ultimately, I think there are parts of it that never have and never will change, such as Y/n and Bill’s relationship. She means absolutely nothing to him other than what he plans to do through her, and she knows that. But she can’t stop loving him.” 

“Bill, will you ever give Y/n more free will?” A person from the audience asks. “No.” Bill says shortly and definitively. “Then how, approximately, big is your mansion?” Bill’s laugh echoes hardily. “Bigger than your small mind can comprehend.” 

“Another for Bill. Why did you choose Y/n to be your toy?” Bill’s stares out to the figure that asked, and stares into their soul. “There’s a very special reason. It’s for me to know and you to find out.” Vida laughs nervously. “It’s actually because Y/n’s parents owed Bill a debt. Let’s just say they weren’t as holy as their daughter makes them out to be.” 

“Y/n?” A hesitant voice rings out. You can almost hear them wince before reading off of the card. “If you had been faster, would suicide have been a plausible escape?” Y/n winces too. “No. Suicide is never the answer. If anyone is considering it, there are other ways out. I was foolish to attempt it, and lucky to survive.” 

“Bill.” The reader sounds annoyed. “Again. On a scale of ten to 9 times one hundred billion, how much of a psychotic son of a bitch are you?” Bill seems halfway amused and halfway ticked off at the question. “Dear whoever sent that stupid ask to me, you need to up your scale. It’s far too small.” The asker continues, their tone almost smirking. “Follow up question. How many layers deep into hell will you be sent? And can you multiply that number by a million? It’s the only way to get an accurate estimation.” Under their breath, they mutter, “And even then, it would probably be much deeper.” 

Bill also seems somewhat amused by this question. “You want to up your scale on that too?” He asks, arching an eyebrow. “Let’s see, how about I just save you some time and tell you that I’ve been to hell? They kicked me out for being worse than Satan.” No one seems surprised as he says that, however there are a few mutters of assent.

“Y/n? On a scale of ten to one million, how much do you miss Dipper and Mabel?” Y/n locks eyes with her companions for a moment before replying. “Far too much to ever be put into numbers. They have been my life ever since I moved to Gravity Falls, and they will always be held dearly within my mind and heart.”

The lucky spectator that ended up with the next card reads, “The following batch of questions are from the user Falling_Gravity.” They look up, diverting from the card for a minute. “Your friend Author?” Vida nods immediately. “They are actually the deciding vote on this with their questions coming in last minute.” 

The next person that caught a card asks, “Bill, what’s so important about Y/n, and do you even feel a sliver of affection for her?” Again Bill chuckles. “I thought we already answered these questions. She’s important because I say so.” He shoots a death glare at Vida. “Plus, she told you too. Her parents owed me a debt. I came to collect and found something within their young girl that I needed. And no. I will never in my long existence feel anything for her. She’s breakable and disposable.” 

“Mabel, Dipper.” The speaker greets both at once. “What are your thoughts on Y/n? Would you consider her a friend?” Mabel and Dipper share the twin look of common thoughts. “Yeah. She’s definitely our friend.” Dipper says. “She’s even more amazing than Sev’ral Timez!” Mabel gushes. “You know, even though they were just clones.” She adds. “But I don’t ship her and Bill at all.” She makes a disgusted face. 

“Author, will this story get a happy end?” The words sound rushed and frantic, almost desperate. “Yes.” Vida answers definitively. “I guarantee it will happen eventually.” There’s a collective exhale of relief from the angst ridden readers. “Bill, what are your plans? Are you still trying to destroy the twins?” Is called out.

 

“Yes and no.” Bill answers. “Yes, I want to destroy them, but that’s not my end goal. My end goal is to liberate this world. Eventually, I’ll leave these pages behind and haunt your government officals’ nightmares. I’ll take ultimate control!” His psychotic laughter can’t be stopped, and Vida’s forced to phone guards to take him off stage. “Um, sorry for the minor inconvenience. . .” She says awkwardly. “Please, no one panic, this will be under control in a moment.” 

A brave soul asks the next question before everything descends into chaos. “Dipper and Mabel, what do you think of Bill, and how close are you to Y/n?” Dipper tugs on his cap for a moment, thinking. “First of all, that triangular demon can go to Hell! He should go. . .” Mabel smacks her hand over his mouth before he can finish his sentence. “Dip dot, we talked about this! No cursing! As for Y/n, yeah! We’re super close! I’ve lost some time with her, hanging out with Paci, but she’s still like the sister I’ve never had!” She glares at her twin for a moment. 

“Author how many chapters are left for the book?” Vida stares off into space for a moment more before answering absentmindedly. “I’m not entirely sure. Chapter 21 is started, and there are definitely quite a few more with all the loose ends still untied. At least three to five.” 

“After the fiasco with Bill, will Y/n ever love again?” The person continues pressing. Y/n’s face goes grey, and Mabel quickly rushes her off the stage before she has a breakdown, dragging Dipper in tow. Vida doesn’t even blink, answering the question immediately. “Yes, I think she may eventually, she desperately wants it, it’s just a matter of healing. She’s been starting to heal in the void, and I have high hopes for her.” 

The figure cloaked entirely in darkness walks over to Vida and whispers quietly, “My dear, it’s time to go.” Vida makes no motion of hearing him, and shows no intention of leaving. The people start to leave until the auditorium is empty again. It’s empty and desolate, as it was at the beginning. 

 

“I can’t do it anymore. It’s going to break me. He’s going to break me.” She whispers to the darkness. “But it’ll be okay as long as I keep working. As long as I keep typing.” The man takes her hand, helping her to her feet and guiding her like a small child. “It’s okay. You’re not broken yet. You’ll make it.”

 

“I’m fading. . .” Vida says as she grows more and more invisible. The empty room is left all alone, a void, till it too crumbles away into nothing. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meta? Definitely meta.
> 
>  
> 
> It's been a long journey to this point. And I think I've broken a little between life and this. Please don't hate on this story, it has so much of me invested in it. I hope you enjoyed this long journey with me to this point in time. Again, please leave a comment below. Encouragement would mean so much to me, or even if you just want to let me know if you've read the Q&A.


	22. "I Think We're Done Here"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this chapter isn't very good. I hope you enjoy it anyway!

“Y/n?” The man who held my hands gently asked. “Could I show you something?” I nodded briefly. “I guess.” A fissure opened in the wall, slowly at first, like trying to pull apart a seam. Then faster and faster still, splitting the inky darkness like a knife. It was white at the edges like a foaming whirlpool, like a thunderstorm that could strike you down in a moment.

Looking into it, my throat constricted and my eyes started to burn. “Give it up Mabel, please.” The brunette begged his sister. Mabel shook the lifeless body in front of her. “No! She can’t be dead!” Tear spilled from her eyes like gentle waves on the beach. “Mabel. . .” Dipper trailed off. He pulled her away from the body, and she collapsed onto him. “Why did he have to take her? Was it not enough? He had to kill her too?” She sobbed. 

I couldn’t watch anymore. “Please, no more.” I said quietly. My companion nodded, and I caught a glimpse of his bangs before the rift snapped closed, the thread of magic sewing the invisible seam back together perfectly. “Your death affected everyone Y/n. Everyone who ever knew you, even those who didn’t. It affected us all.” I could hear the next sentence before he ever said it. “But my story’s far from finished.”

He laughed quietly, not in humor, but not quite from pain. “No, your story’s not yet finished. But it will keep all of us hanging on till the very last page. I know it pains you, but you must continue.”  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Say it.” I gritted my teeth, unwilling. “No.” I growled, powering through the pain. “Say it.” His voice was calm, but I could hear the underlying tones of rage and sick amusement. 

“Go to Hell first.” I spat. “You might regret that.” Was the quick reply. I might, but no more than I regretted the burning whip on my back, tearing into my flesh, shredding my skin into oblivion. A voice in my head tempted me. It would be so much easier to just give in. To do what he wanted, say what he wanted.

But I pushed it away. I had spent far too long playing right into his hands, letting him control me and do as he pleased. Letting him defile my body and mind, pollute my soul, and destroy my heart. I had given far too much of myself and never gotten anything back.

He could leave me broken in a sentence and call me back with a word. Leave me bleeding on the polished floor just to pick me up and take me to his warm bed. His bed where, however warm it was, his skin was always like his heart. Ice cold. 

I was nothing to him. Less than these polished walls, less than the body he claimed, less than the dirt on his boots. He used me. He used up my body. He used up my soul, my heart. He left me confused on who I was and who I was to become. 

“Your point?” I asked. “I regret even falling in love in the first place.” He laughed. “Love is a human word, a funny word. There is no love. There is a burning instinct inside of you to mate. To be claimed by one and one alone. A primal desire to be hurt and used and left. You pretend to hate me when I give you these things, pretend to hate me because you have no other defense against what you know you want, who you know you belong to. Me, and me alone.” 

He lied. I wanted love in the best and worst ways. Coffee at ten at night, a kiss on a rainy day. Wrapped in someone’s arms when the winter frost bit at my face, the wind whipping around me. I wanted someone to come up behind me, to scare me with a hug, to give me a present. Someone to say ‘I love you’. I was robbed. Cheated out of my life. Lied to. 

The words that described me when I came here, and the words that described me now were totally different. Before everything, I would have described myself as unique, beautiful, hopeful, strong. Now, the words that described me were weak. Broken, used, worthless, disposable. 

“Kill me first.” I spat with the last of my courage. He grabbed my hair and yanked me up so I was facing him. “That can be aranged.” He seethed. “Then do it.” I said quietly, my resolve drained. “I think we’re done here.” He responded, just as quietly. “Let’s get you bandaged up.” He picked me up gently, carrying me into the bathroom. 

The bandages hurt and I winced as he taped them onto my back. He never ceased to puzzle me. He hated me, said I meant nothing. But he kept me holding onto hope in these tender moments. When he spoke to me softly, cared. I suppose that was his plan. Keep me believing in him. But why? He already knew that I couldn’t and wouldn’t stop loving him.

But the next bandage hit me at the same time as the relization. Break to keep fixing. Or in this case, fix to keep breaking. He patched me up so he could hurt me more. He wasn’t tender in a rare moment of love. He was gentle because he refused to let me die. He just wanted to hurt me. People who loved you didn’t hurt you. Didn’t whip you or cut you. Didn’t play mind and physical games, didn’t play games with your soul. If Bill loved me, he wouldn’t threaten to kill me. He wouldn’t take me to bed every night despite my sobs and protests.

I had so many scars between the days and nights spent here. It made me feel older, but weaker. “Bill?” I asked, wincing. “How long has it been?” I flinched as he drew away from my back, sealing the bandages on. “I knew you would ask that question eventually.” He said bluntly. “It’s not been long enough. Look at me.”

I turned to him, and he pulled a tiny clock up in his hand. “You’re almost old enough. You just crossed the twenty line.” It didn’t feel like I’d been here that long. “Old enough for what?” I asked. The sadistic gleam reappeared in his eyes, and I knew that no matter how gentle he was at the moment, he would never truly change. 

“When you’re twenty one, I will finally be able to escape the prison that holds me. I will finally be able to roam the earth freely, fueled by the love of an innocent. And after that, I will be able to leave these pages.”

 

The thought terrified me. Bill roaming the world, doing as he pleased. “Yes.” Bill says, smirking. “I will finally be free. And nothing and no one will be able to stop me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, hope you enjoyed! Please leave a comment if you did or with constructive criticism!


	23. Innocent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry y'all. This chapter was supposed to be posted a long time ago, but then I got busy and forgot about it. I'm also sorry it's not even a long chapter to make up for my lateness. Never the less, I hope you enjoy!

I prayed. I prayed for my safety, for Mabel and Dipper’s. I prayed that my parents were happy up there in Heaven, or whatever there was. I didn’t hear the echoing footsteps until he spoke. “You’ve never considered why they died.” 

I jumped at his voice. “What?” I could practically hear his smirk. “I said, you’ve never considered why they died.” He continues. 

“Leave me alone.” I said, giving him the cold shoulder. There was no way he was ruining the little pieces of joy I had left. His hands were icy on my shoulders. “But dear,” he said in his teasing, mocking tone, “We both know that's not really what you want. If I left you alone, you would starve from lack of attention. Like a delicate flower, you would wilt until you cried for me to come back, begged me to take you.” 

“You bastard.” I swore. “You only say that because you know I'm right.” He responded liltingly. My defenses started to crumble away. Of course he was right. He was always right. 

“Come on.” Bill said, his hand lifting my chin. “It’s not that bad. Let me take you somewhere.” He pulled me to his body, cold as always, and I closed my eyes. 

 

_Somewhere, music was playing in the house. Somewhere, a child was crying. Then the crying stopped. A man with yellow wandered into the child’s room and watched the scene unfold._

_“Shh dear. Don’t wake her.” The woman said to the man hovering on silver wings, barely above the floor. “Just slit the child’s throat and be rid of her.” He growled. “That’s what we’re going to do anyway.” The woman with blue wings gave him a look. “You know the rule we’ve always gone by. No blood. Blood means that there’s a wound. Blood means the parents grow suspicious when there’s not one. Blood means this changeling exists.”_

_The man sighs. “Of course.” He’s not happy about the idea, but he knows that she’s right. And then it’s done. The changeling’s in place and the two leave through the window. But the man in yellow follow._

_The air crackles with tension as they stop, the human baby still in hand. A shiny silver knife ends it’s life. But they’ve made a mistake. After years of perfection, they’ve made a mistake. Someone saw them. Ran screaming back to their group of hundreds._

_It’s a bloodbath as the fairies’ eyes turn red. They have smiles on their faces as the crimson liquid coats their hands. The man of gold becomes visible. He makes them a deal. They can hurt, they can kill whoever and whenever they want. If they give him their child. She will be a human, born of two faeries. But they agree. And the deal is made. Far before she is ever born, like the tale of Rumpelstiltskin, Y/n is promised to Bill Cipher; lord of seven universes, master of dreams and reality, and destroyer of his own home._

“Your parents refused to pay their debt to me. They believed that they could take with no punishment, having done it all of their very long lives.” Bill proclaimed “So they died, perished in the flames. And you were spared merely because you were needed. Your parents enjoyed killing Y/n. They were never as innocent as you thought.”


	24. Guilty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm not dead! Yay! Second of all, I apologize for both the long leave of absence and the lack of chapter content. It was more of a "Here is what is going on and how the characters stand on it" chapter, and less of a "Here is a giant plot bomb" chapter. I am trying to finish tying everything up, and, as I said before, there will be no more than thirty chapters. And I'm already working on ideas for the sequel, so get excited!

There's only so far I can be pushed. Only so much that can be taken from me before I wind up empty. And then I feel so guilty. Brand it across my shoulder blades. Guilty. I have to go on. But I'm guilty.

I was conceived in violence, brought into a violent world by violent fae, and was intended to be raised to do violence. I am guilty. 

I deserve to die as much as my parents did. Perhaps that's why I'm here. My own private version of Hell. To be punished for the sins hidden within me. 

“No.” The demon whose arms were around my naked body responded. “You're not judged by the sins of your parents.” His fingernails dug into my back as he read my thoughts. “No, you're here simply because you were what I was owed. You're merely a pawn, a piece of currency, in this long game that the gods, including myself, play.” 

You touch one little thing and it all comes falling apart. But were we ever really in control? “No.” Bill says for the third time, laughing, damn him. He was inches from me. “Humans are never _truly_ in control. They just convince themselves that they are.” 

“Go to Hell.” I spit, lifting myself out of my misery and trying to pull myself from the bed and from his arms. He tightens his grip. “I’ve been there. It’s a nice place.” I try again, in vain, to pull away from him. “Where are you planning on going my dear?” He hisses. “You have nowhere else to go. No one else to rely on.” Every word, every syllable, is pronounced. Enunciated. “In the end, there’s only me.” 

His blank haze of brainwash started to retake my pliable mind, started to bend it, shape it. Take it over again. I struggled futility against both his arms and his mind, but to no avail. 

“Bill?” I ask hazily. Reality is clouded, as if I view it through a sheer curtain. “What were we just talking about?” My words are slow, almost stuck together. “Don’t worry about it honey.” He said, kissing my head lightly. “Don’t worry about it at all.” 

“Okay.” I said quietly, pulling his arms tighter around me, surrounding myself in his warmth. “Okay.” I repeated. “I love you Bill.” I had warmth around me and I started dozing off. I swear I could have heard him say something back, but perhaps it was merely my fading mind playing a trick on me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well Bill, what was it you said? Perhaps we'll never know. . .
> 
> Really quickly, I would like to ask everyone who is reading this chapter to leave a quick comment with three things:
> 
> 1) What do you think Bill said?  
> 2) Are you or are you not excited for the sequel?  
> 3) Most importantly! Who would like a discord server for this story/this series?
> 
> Thank you so much!
> 
> Also, [Bug me on Tumblr!](https://sunhealer24.tumblr.com/)


	25. Tomorrow Is The Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, I am _so_ sorry that I didn't post for almost a month! I got busy and some more writer's block, then I just kinda. . . forgot about working on Chapter twenty-four. But I just finished it, so here you go!

“Would you prefer me not to feel?” I screamed at him. “Is that what you want from me? To be like you? To not feel a thing?” His voice was a menacing growl. “You might benefit from seeing the world my way. I’m not the bad guy you’re making me out to be.”

Backed against the wall, I screamed at him like a caged animal. The floor shone slick with my blood and I knew I wouldn’t last much longer in this debate with my lover. I squeezed my eyes shut tight. “You know what Bill? Fine. You’re right.” Whatever he said. I just needed to get out of this room. To bandage the new cuts, to check on the old scars. I could hear him smile. It was the smile, wide and full of perfect teeth that he showed whenever he won something. “I knew you’d come around. You always do.”

It’s not like I had a choice. But I’d been getting more defiant recently. He’d ‘had’ to beat it into me a lot more than usual. But always, always, I would go along with him at some point. What was the point of the sick games? I had no choice in the end. He knew it I knew it.

Maybe truly was going insane. Even the walls seemed to be moving and speaking as the clock ticked down to my birthday. I couldn’t bear to let him leave the world he was stranded in. But I had no control over anything here. Everything was left to Bill to control. Something may have kept him in check, the mysterious person pulling the strings behind the curtains, but whoever she was, she sure as hell wasn’t me. 

I trembled as I bandaged my wounds. Nothing could possibly be out there, no one could ever control Bill.  
There was very little left for me, here or anywhere else, if anywhere else existed at all. I could feel someone out there, looking for me, but if they truly even cared, it was far too late. Maybe on my twenty-first birthday, Bill would be merciful and finally kill me. But perhaps even that was too kind for him. Maybe that would have been too kind of my parents.

In some sick, twisted way, Bill was simply delivering justice to a broken world. My parents were murderers. He killed them. Rapists and people with intent to harm had been found dead before with no evidence to convict. Perhaps that was Bill. Perhaps it was all Bill. Maybe the life I had been living was a lie, and everything that I knew was wrong. 

That was an awful lot of maybes. But what other explanations were there? Everything here had fucked me up so much that nothing made sense anymore. 

I was ripped out of my thoughts brutally by Bill calling me from the bedroom. “Y/n, come here.” 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

I was long over crying. My eyes were so dry, I didn’t know if I would ever cry again. I cleared my throat. “Little did I know when he called me, that that would be the last time he would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't notice the chapter count, next chapter will be the very last chapter of this story, but I'll try to get the sequel out as fast as I can, as well as working on my other stories when I get the time. 
> 
> A big thank you to everyone that's stuck it out with this story (and put up with me)! I appreciate your patience!
> 
> Please leave a comment down below to tell me your thoughts and feelings. Are you excited about the sequel? Are you ready for this story to be over? I would love to know where y'all are on this story/series!


	26. End of Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! All is revealed, and I'll try to put the sequel out soon! Let me know your thoughts please!

I entered the bedroom with apprehension. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but a pit of darkness was forming in the bottom of my stomach. “Bill?” I asked. He was already naked in the bed, I could tell by the way he was lying. “Closer Y/n.” His smirk was cold but oddly inviting. 

I stepped closer, although something was screaming at me not to. “You love me, and I want you to show me.” There was no room for argument in his voice. I screwed my eyes tight, shedding my clothes before getting in bed with him. I knelt. “No. On the floor.” He commanded, and I complied. 

He was behind me in an instant. His cold hands on my shoulders steadied him. He pushed into my ass, drawing a shocked breath from me. In all the nights we had done this, he had never been in my ass. When he started moving, it hurt like all hell. “Why do you hate me so much?” I sobbed. He said something I couldn’t hear through my own screaming. “Why?” I demanded. But this time, he didn’t answer.

When he pulled out, I was a mess. It was painful, blood pouring from my back from the knife he had. Damn sadist. “I love you.” I said anyway, the truth shining from behind the hate. He sat down on the bed, rubbing his eyes with the butt of the palm of his hands. “Get dressed.” He said, so quietly that I barely heard it. “What?” I asked.

He looked up at me, his eyes bloodshot. “Get dressed!” He roared. Hurrying to comply, I put on my clothes in record time and looked at him for further instruction. 

He got up, and stood with his back to me, looking through a window in the bedroom. The knife was still in his hand and he twirled it idily. 

"Get out." His voice was cold.  
"But. . ."  
"I said, GET OUT!" He repeats. "I don't give a damn!"  
"I love you!"  
There's a moment of silence. "Well, that's just too damn bad, isn't it?"  
I hesitate, and he turns, the glint of the knife in his hand. "You just want me to hurt you, don't you?"

I started backing away, but he advanced towards me, knife pointing straight at me. “I’m getting out!” I screamed in his face. His eyes were pitch black. “Not anymore you’re not.” I turned and ran.

I could hear him just behind me, inhumanly fast. But I had been here for years. “Y/N!” He screamed my name, almost a growl. I didn't stop. I kept running. He would catch me eventually, but maybe, just maybe I could hide and let him calm down a bit first. 

It wasn’t but a few minutes that I was hopelessly lost. In a completely new part of this mansion. I couldn’t tell one wall from another, all solid gold. But I ran, and I ran. I ducked into a room, the only one unlocked on this side of the mansion. 

Oh crap. This was. . . not a good place to be. On every wall there were knives. Sharp. Sharp as steel. Iron stained with blood. Was this where he kept all the torturing devices? 

Chains. Rusty iron. Silver dipped in red. Manacles. Whips and razors. Blades in the shape of a moon. Breathe Y/n. Breathe. Don’t panic. Quiet, or he’ll hear you. There’s no telling what he’ll do.  
I back away from the door slightly, opening it just a crack to peek out. It was okay. . . The path was clear. . .

Then suddenly, Bill’s black eyes. Staring into my soul. Paralyzed with fear, he slammed open the door and I fell onto the ground. “P-please don’t h-hurt me again.” I whimpered. His eyes. Black pits of madness, they swallowed me.

“You don’t even know what pain is little girl.” He whispered to me. And before I even blinked, one of the knives was in his hand. A wickedly curved blade, with blood at its tip. I screamed, and he pressed the sickle to my neck. “Hush little girl, and maybe I’ll show mercy.” He was lying. We both knew it. Or maybe he was so corrupted by the darkness, that he no longer knew dead from alive.

I screamed as he thrust into my suddenly naked body. Screamed as he howled in pleasure. Screamed as his sickle ran through my back and touched my beating heart. Fell silent as my life flashed. White. 

Pain. White. Pain. White. Pain. _White. Pain. WHITE! PAIN!_

 

Then black.

And all was silent. I had clothes. Blood streaming down onto them. My heart was slowing down. But Bill was there. With his dark, soulless eyes. “Run.” He whispered. His voice was a husky bass. 

So I ran. There was light ahead of me. I burst through the door and I was falling.

Falling.

Falling. . .

 

The ground was hard. I tried to cry for help but fell silent. It had rained recently, reminiscent of the day I met him. It smelled like rain and the grass was wet with dew. Wet with dew and soaking in my blood. 

I’m bleeding. That’s all there is to it. He hurt me again. I’m foolish to love him, I know. Nothing’s ever going to change. He’s just going to keep doing it, and I can’t even stop him. But maybe death will release me. He’s coming for me. I can feel it. In my heart. In the blood that’s beating on the ground. It’s thrumming. I can feel it.

“Y/n?” I hear someone call. It’s Mabel. But it might be too late. I might already be dead. I hope I am. 

My blood is soaking into the ground, still. I think it’s because I tried to run. I tried to avoid it. God. I’m such an idiot. At least I got away after. At least he won’t get to see me die. I should have listened to him. Maybe I’d have stayed alive to tell my story.

He doesn’t love me. He never did. I’m just a pawn to him. A toy. I love him with all my heart and soul. He’ll never love me back. I’ve known this for forever. But I deluded myself into thinking that it was okay. Until his black eyes bore into my soul and now, I accept the truth.

No. It was never okay. I’m just his slave, that’s all I ever meant to him. Nothing more. He just wanted to use me. Just wanted to break me. It wasn’t enough for him to own me. He wanted to possess me mind, body, and soul. He was going to escape from the pages that confine us both. That confine us all. He was going to leave. To go into your world. But if I’m dead, he won’t be able to.

If I die before Mabel finds me, at least I’ll die with the truth on my lips.

“Bill Cipher may own me, but he’ll never break me.” I whisper. My voice cracks slightly. Yes. I love Bill, but it’s not enough.

Because love is only so strong. It’s only as strong as the heart that holds it. My heart is broken now. Broken by delusions, broken further by the truth. As all hearts may be.

 

So when mine stops, he’ll no longer have a willing pawn.

 

“Y/n!” Mabel exclaims. “Dipper!” She yells frantically. Call all you want. But it’s too late now. You won’t protect anyone by yelling.

Shh. . . He’ll hear you. . .

My eyes flutter, she’s floating in and out of my vision. “Dammit! Stay with us!” Mabel’s shaking me now.

I’m sorry. I can’t. I’ve failed you. I’ll never be here again. Never see you smile. Never watch you laugh at a dumb joke or hold hands with Pacifica. I’m so sorry. I loved you Mabel. You were my sister. I tried so hard. But it’s the end.

 

I can see yellow over her shoulder. “Look out!” I try to yell, but only a quiet sigh escapes the prison of my lips.

Darkness swirls over the world as I fall into the cold grip of sleep. It’s for the better. No one further will be hurt. Not them. Not me. Not you. 

 

 

 

 

 

I hope I don’t wake up.  
\---------------------------------------------------

“And I didn’t. Didn’t wake back up. Instead, I’m here.” I finish up my story. 

For a moment, there’s silence. But it’s no longer the type of silence that needs to be filled. It’s quiet. Peaceful even. For the first time in several years, I am at peace. With myself, with this world. With the person behind everything. The person with the pen and ink that’s telling our story. 

I’m at peace. 

He breaks the silence. “Y/n.” I turn to him.

“I’m sending you somewhere. It should be safe, at least for now. Your life is far from over. But you won’t be back in Gravity Falls. You’ve suffered to much there. No. I’m sending you to someone who’s heart calls to you. Your heart has been calling to him too, even if you didn’t know it.” 

His news startles me. I recall that feeling. Compelling. Dangerous. _Incredible._

“I’m sending you to Reverse Falls. My cousin, Will Cipher, awaits you there.” 

“ _Will_ Cipher?” I question. “Yes.” The man says. “Bill’s brother, and much kinder. Go to him Y/n. You will not be disappointed.”

“But that means. . .” I start off. “Yes.” He cuts me off. Bill is also my cousin. That’s how I know him. That’s how I know how he is.” 

He’s almost. . . intimidating now. “Who are you?” I ask him, alarmed. 

A shining purple light penetrates the darkness. This man holds a lantern with a supernatural glow in his right hand. He’s tall, just like Bill. But he has smile lines and a soft expression. He’s all dressed in purple and black, even his hair, just like Bill with gold. He wears a fedora and an umbrella leans against an invisible wall.

“Me?” He asks. 

 

“Why, I’m Tad Strange. And this isn’t the last time we’ll see each other.” He smiles at me, a genuine smile and waves. “Enjoy your trip Y/n. I’ll see you soon.”

 

And the world spins into white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise? Or did everyone already know from my hinting? Are we all ready for the next installment in this series? Cause I think it's going to be a blast. Everyone, please let me know how you feel in the comments section below, and I will see you all later!
> 
> (I may do one last Q/A for everyone, so please leave questions down below as well)


	27. Discord Server

Hey guys!

For anyone reading this, this is an update chapter.

#1. A reminder that this fic _does_ have a sequel, "Sunshine's Bright, But Clouds Bring Rain".

 

#2. If you couldn't tell by the title of this chapter, there's now a discord server for this series!

Currently, only three people have joined, but it is a great place for if you want to discuss the series, ask myself or the characters questions, show your support for me or the ships, submit something to me, or just hang out in general!

 

You can reach it [here!](https://discord.gg/FyJ33xn)

 

Hope to see you there!


End file.
